“If the manners of the English are, in general, stiff and reserved, those of our fashionable people are rude and repulsive; for we have the peculiar faculty of improving on everything we borrow from Europe, commencing with the cut of our clothes, and ending with our language and manners.
“It is for this reason the dress of our young ladies—and especially the costume de bal—is less becoming than that of the French; their air dégagé is apt to be mistaken for forwardness; and their conversation, where the thing is at all attempted, is fraught with the slang—or, what is worse, the learning—of the boarding-school. Whenever one of our girls ‘gets an European education,’ an attempt is made to make her a walking encyclopædia of arts and sciences; and this, not so much for the sake of developing her mind, as to make her ‘superior to other girls,’ whom she is to outshine in society. I once heard a gentleman recommend an instructor to teach his daughter ‘a little of everything.’ ‘I want her,’ said he, ‘to know a little of Latin and Greek, a little of mathematics, a little of astronomy, and a little of everything else; in short, I never want her to be embarrassed in society, let the conversation turn on what it may.’ There is a young lady of that description here. She has just done spouting Virgil to one man, and Euclid to another, and now she is playing a waltz on the piano. She has a whole circle of admirers, fresh from the counting-room, around her, who, I dare be sworn, look upon her as the eighth wonder of the world; only an Englishman was impudent enough to observe that her acquirements tasted, one and all, of ‘Murray’s Elements.’
“As a pendant to the fashionable lady, you may notice, opposite the looking-glass, one of our American exquisites. His dress was made in London, but his manners are those of the most accomplished French coxcomb. His air, gait, and voice are affected, the latter being almost screwed to a childish treble; his conversation is copiously sprinkled with foreign idioms, and he has the vanity of inviting the young ladies of his acquaintance to smell his hair, which he assures them is scented with real Persian perfume! Could you expect such a man to be in favour of a less rigid distinction of castes? Could you imagine him to associate with people whose hair is only greased with pomatum, or, as is but too frequently the case in this country, with nothing but natural grease?
“And now look, for one moment, on our middle-aged gentlemen and ladies. Among the first we reckon those who are settled down in some respectable business; the latter term comprises all the married women in the country. At a party you can always distinguish them, even if they should happen to be young, by their greater sobriety; the men being satisfied with talking about business, and the women, if they do not belong to the very tip-top of fashion, being quietly seated near the wall, or in some corner of the room, talking, at times, very loud amongst themselves, but modestly answering the embarrassing variety of questions addressed to them by the gentlemen, of which unfortunately I was never able to remember more than two, viz. ‘How do you do, ma’am?’ and then, in the course of a quarter of an hour, with a pathetic emphasis and a sigh, ‘How do you do again?’
“It has been asserted that, notwithstanding our many social deficiencies, there is yet a vast deal of intelligence in many of our small evening circles. This, in general, may be true; but I do not think our people understand the art of amusing themselves. We have little of the laisser aller of the French, and still less of la bagatelle. Moreover, we do not trust one another sufficiently, even at our parties. We always are, or imagine ourselves to be, in public, where we may meet with the eye of a reporter, and, perchance, see ourselves in print. Some of our first people went to Europe for the express purpose of learning how to live; but, on their return, never did more than go through the regular exercises of entertaining people,—a thing which proved to be as great a source of annoyance to themselves, as it was one of cheerless dissipation to their friends.
“Our people, in fact, will continue to remain tyros in the art of living, until they will have learned how to laugh. The occasional shaking of the diaphragm—absolutely necessary to the health of people not in a habit of taking active exercise—is a practice only popular among the negroes in the Southern States, who, to judge from appearances, are the happiest people in the Union. In New England I have only, now and then, remarked a spasmodic contraction of the muscles of the face approaching a smile or a grin; and in Boston, a city of more than eighty thousand inhabitants, there were but two gentlemen—one of English and the other of German extraction—who were known to have ever burst out in a horse-laugh. The much-praised intelligence of the higher classes of that ‘learned’ city resembles truly a December sun;—it gives you enough light to see by, but you require a fire to be comfortable.”
Hardly had he spoken these words before a new general move betokened the breaking-up of the party. The married ladies and gentlemen had, in fact, been ready to go home ever since supper was over; but remained, either to oblige their children, or out of politeness to their entertainers, who were particularly anxious of the honour of keeping late hours. Sundry gapes and heavy eyelids had, indeed, long ago indicated their disposition to go to rest; but they were not taken notice of by the dancers, who appeared to be as fresh as ever, and prepared for the by no means unusual thing of a second supper. The good sense of the elderly portion, however, prevailed; and in a few moments every young gallant was on his knees—to assist his fair partner to put on her India rubber overshoes, (for in the United States no servant is permitted to touch the foot of a lady,) and the company separated, after saluting the lady of the house, and shaking the hand of the gentleman.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] Mr. Encke of Berlin.
[10] This is an argument I have constantly heard used against Europeans.