“In point of shape, the ladies of Philadelphia are believed to be unrivalled; their necks, shoulders, and waists being admirably wrought, and their hands and feet of the most aristocratic littleness. Their complexions are not so clear and fresh as those of the women of New England; but the expression of their countenances is more distinguée, inclining somewhat towards the Spanish. I was also told that they had a taste for the romantic; several ‘droll’ engagements taking place annually, and a small number of run-away matches furnishing from time to time sufficient matter for the chronique scandaleuse of the town. Things of this kind are of rare occurrence in the North; though, as I observed during my stay in Boston, there is no lack of imagination on the part of the women. But where should a young Bostonian find time to run away with a lady? What business or matter-of-fact man is sufficiently amiable for a woman to risk her reputation on his account?
“The Quaker ladies, in general, are renowned for their beauty. They dress plainly, but in the richest materials; showing that their aristocracy consists in substance, not in forms. The colour of their dresses, which is usually of a light grey, is not ill suited to a fair complexion; but the cut is too Old-English not to form a glaring contrast with the Paris fashions weekly imported into the United States. At the time of William Penn, the Quaker dress was not distinguished from the fashions of the day by all that was inelegant, odd, contrary to the prevailing taste; and on that account did not obtrude itself on every one’s notice. But at present the case is reversed; the very simplicity of the apparel becomes an arrogant distinction, or may at least be considered as such by those who do not look upon it as a part of their religious creed. Every man or woman owes something to society, so that a total disregard of its established rules and customs is usually considered as proceeding either from extreme vulgarity, or a degree of elevation which need not descend to the level of others: a wise person avoids the dilemma.
“For this reason, and perhaps also because the French fashions of the day are far more becoming to a pretty face, and exhibit taille, tournure, &c. to much greater advantage, a portion of ‘the Society of Friends’ have of late relaxed from their original severity, and adopted certain unobjectionable parts of Parisian millinery. The selection they made shows their tact and sense of propriety; and it is now a common saying with travelled men, that, in order to see a well-dressed lady, one must either see a Parisian woman of the higher classes, or a ‘gay Quakeress of Philadelphia.’ The gentlemen, too, begin to trim their hats, and allow the fashionable scissors to be applied to their coats, without dreading the immediate downfal of Christianity. They are also said to have grown more attentive to ladies; having at last arrived at the conviction that the hearts of women are more easily attached by the silken thread of trifling cares and attentions, than by the chain-cable of constant toil and sacrifice.
“A number of Quakers of Philadelphia occupy themselves exclusively with science and literature; few of them are not members of some charitable or other association for the benefit of mankind. Yet they have, from the commencement of the revolutionary war, been denounced as Tories: partly because they did not take an active part in the struggle for independence; and partly because, as politicians, they have always been in favour of a federal government. If it be true that family, education, and even property, are, from the principle of self-preservation, inclined towards a strong protective government, the Quakers as a body must naturally be advocates of Conservatism; but in a country like America, where political principles and parties are constantly changing, where the power of the government and the opposition are so nearly balanced, and where the clashing interests of society sometimes completely paralyze the course of politics adopted by the Congress of the nation, I can see no evil come from a small part of the community being attached to existing forms, or united, if this were possible, for the purpose of resisting the rapidity of public events.
“The American government, as I have often said, requires, more than any other, a strong opposition. The aristocratic and democratic principles mutually excite and increase one another, like positive and negative electricity in the metallic plates of a galvanic chain; only, that from time to time they require cleaning. Each principle without the presence of the other would soon degenerate; and it is, in this situation of public affairs, perhaps a fortunate circumstance that there should exist at least one class of society capable of representing with some sort of dignity the aristocratic element of State.
“The time, after all, must come when the United States will have their history; when the present will be linked to the past; when the names of American statesmen and patriots will go for something in the estimation of the public. Then the influence of family will and must be felt by the people as the historical representative of their political existence. This period is now delayed by the apparent opposition between the higher and lower classes; but it will arrive as soon as the real élite of society will join the lower orders against the tyranny of mediocrity—in the shape of the government of the rich bourgeoisie.
“The society of Philadelphia is, on the whole, better than that of Boston or New York. There is less vulgar aristocracy than in other Northern cities. Not that I mean to say that there are not people to be found in Boston and New York that could rival the Philadelphians in point of ‘gentility;’ but in the good ‘city of brotherly love’ there is, probably owing to a seasonable admixture of a large number of European, and especially French families, a higher tone, greater elegance, and, in every respect, more agrémens. The New-Englanders are an arguing people, and annoy you, even in society, with mathematical and political demonstrations. The Philadelphians have more taste, and have the best cooks in the United States.
“There is nothing more aristocratic than the keeping of an excellent cook; nothing so vulgar as not to care what one is eating or drinking. ‘Dis-moi ce que tu manges, et je te dirai qui tu es,’ said the celebrated author of ‘La Physiologie du Goút;’ and, certes, no Philadelphian will in this respect be found wanting in the scale. There is a nice little house in Third-street, kept by a man, or, as I should say, ‘a gentleman,’ who spent upwards of an hundred thousand dollars in Europe in learning how to eat and drink, and who is now teaching the same science to a select circle of his countrymen; charging them for his trouble a little less than some of the quack professors of the culinary art in New York and Boston, who think a dinner excellent when it consists of joints, and show their barbarism by putting ice in their claret.
“Mr. H—d, of the Mansion-house in Philadelphia, has been long enough in Europe to know the difference between gravy and melted butter; and if every American that goes to Europe to improve himself would only learn as much, there would be no harm, and much substantial benefit, arising from it to the country. I have, at his house, eaten fricassees that would have done credit to old Véry;—his son inherited the money, not the taste of his father;—and sauces with which, as Prince Puckler Muskau has it, ‘a man could have eaten his own grandfather!’ In short, one is more comfortable at the neat little house in Third-street, than anywhere else in the United States. An Englishman himself could live there without missing any of the luxuries of his own country, if the bar-keeper were not a stupid old negro, and Mr. H—d, jun. more of a gentleman than a landlord.
“A word in parting to you,” says my German traveller, apostrophising the fashionable young men of Philadelphia; “you are much mistaken if you take the terms ‘idler,’ and ‘gentleman,’ for synonymous. There is a vast difference between a gentleman of leisure, and a vagrant that walks up and down Chestnut-street, and stares women out of countenance. You seem to think that a certain bold unabashed look marks the gentleman of ton,—the fashionable rake, whose position in society enables him to disregard the prejudices of the multitude. You pamper your fancy in the salons, in order afterwards to feed upon a common pasture. This is but a miserable way of imitating the refined roué of Europe. If you cannot affect sentiment, conceal at least your passion, or curb your inordinate fancy. There is nothing so vulgar as imagination without taste.—And you men of family, without fashion! study aristocracy in the classics, rather than in the newspaper polemics of the day; or, if this should prove too tedious, read the history of the Italian republics. There was a time in Florence when every nobleman was obliged to have a trade, and yet Florence produced the Medici; why should you be ashamed to imitate so high an example? or are you afraid lest all your tradespeople should wish to become noblemen?”[16]