Without having the shameless effrontery of vice, these ladies have
not the austere rigour of virtue. Seeing that professed courtesans
insnared the most promising youths, and snatched them from other
women, this description of females sprang up, in a manner, to dispute
with them, under the rose, the advantages which the others derived
from their traffic. If they have not the same boldness in their
carriage, their looks bespeak almost as much complaisance. They
declaim loudly against women of all the classes before-mentioned, for
the best possible reason; because these are their more dangerous
rivals. It is certain that a virtuous woman cannot hold the breach of
chastity too much in abhorrence, but every Lucretia ought to have "a
tear for pity," especially towards the fallen part of her sex.
Nothing can be more disgusting than to hear women, who are known to
have transgressed, forget their own frailties, and rail against the
more unguarded, and, consequently, more artless part of womankind,
without mercy or justice.
Demireps, in general, profess the greatest disinterestedness in their
connexions; but if they receive no money at the moment of granting
their favours, they accept trinkets and other presents which have
some value. It is not at all uncommon for a man to think that he has
a _bonne fortune_, when he finds himself on terms of intimacy with
such a woman. Enraptured at his success, he repeats his visits, till
one day he surprises his belle, overwhelmed by despair. He eagerly
inquires the cause. After much entreaty, she informs him that she has
had ill luck at play, and, with anguish in her looks, laments that
she is ruined beyond redemption. The too credulous admirer can do no
less than accommodate her secretly with a sufficient sum to prevent
her from being taken to task by her husband; and thus the
disinterested lady proves, in the end, a greater drain to the
gallant's pocket than the most mercenary courtesan.
The man who would wish to recommend himself to their favour, scarcely
need take any further trouble than to change some of their trinkets,
which are no longer in fashion. Sometimes he may meet with a husband,
who, conniving at his wife's infidelity, will shew him every mark of
attention. In that case, the lover is quite at home, and his presence
being equally agreeable to the obliging husband as to the kind wife,
when they are all three assembled, they seem to fit their several
places like the three sides of an equilateral triangle.
Since the revolution, the increase of demireps is said to have
diminished most sensibly the class of what are termed kept women.
Indeed, it is affirmed by some, that the number of the former has,
within these few years, multiplied in a tenfold proportion. Others
again maintain that it is no greater than it was formerly; because,
say they, the state of society in Paris is not near so favourable to
amorous intrigue as that which existed under the old _régime_. Riches
being more equally divided, few persons, comparatively speaking, are
now sufficiently affluent to entertain large parties, and give routs,
balls, and suppers, where a numerous assemblage afforded, to those
inclined to dissipation, every opportunity of cultivating an intimate
acquaintance. I must confess that these reasons, assigned by some
worthy Frenchmen whose opinions I respect, do not altogether accord
with the result of my observation; and, without taking on myself to
controvert them, I am persuaded that truth will bear me out in
asserting, that, if the morals of that class of society in which I
have chiefly mixed during the different periods of my stay in France,
are not deteriorated, they are certainly not improved since I last
visited Paris.
After having painted, in regular succession, and with colours
occasionally borrowed, the general portrait of all those classes of
females whose likeness every English traveller has, no doubt, met
with, I must find a little corner of my canvass for a small number of
women who might, probably, be sought in vain out of Paris. However
great a recommendation their rarity may be in the eyes of some, still
it is not the only quality that points them out to the notice of the
impartial observer.
When a man has come to his senses respecting the sex, or, according
to the vulgar adage, sown his wild oats, he naturally seeks a sincere
friend to whom he can unbosom himself with confidence. Experience
warns him that few men are to be trusted; and unless he has had the
good fortune to meet with a virtuous wife, blessed with an engaging
temper and a good understanding, he must even, like Junius, be the
depository of his own secret. In Paris, however, he may find one of
those scarce females, who, being accustomed early in life to
reflection, possess the firm mind of a man, combined with the quick
sensibility of a woman.
When the illusion of the first passions is dissipated, their reason
becomes unclouded. Renouncing every narrow thought, they raise
themselves to the knowledge of the most weighty affairs, and, by an
active observation of mankind, are accustomed to discriminate every
shade of character. Hence their penetration is great; and they are
capable of giving good advice on important occasions. In short, a
French woman at thirty makes an excellent friend, and, attaching
herself to the man she esteems, thinks no sacrifice too great for the
advancement of his interest, or the security of his happiness or
reputation.
The friendship between man and woman is a thousand times more sweet
than that between one man and another. A woman's friendship is
active, vigilant, and at the same time tender. French women cherish
more sincerely their old friends than their young lovers. They may
perchance deceive the lover, but never the friend; the latter they
consider as a sacred being. Whence, no doubt, Rousseau (who has not
spared the Parisian ladies) has been led to say: "I would never have
sought in Paris a wife, still less a mistress; but I would willingly
have made there a female friend; and this treasure would, perhaps,
have consoled me for not finding the other two."