There was, however, one person whose name has not yet figured in the catalogue, but whose character of mixed good and evil, would require a powerful pencil to delineate; for the many amalgamating tints which united and harmonised its opposing lights and shades were any thing but an easy task to give—divested of these, the portrait would become caricature. How often does marriage, especially in early life, give a colour to the future conduct of women. Had Lady Hamlet Vernon married differently, she was possessed of qualities which would have rendered her estimable as well as amiable; and was mistress of talents which, if properly directed and matured, would have rendered her a being distinguished above her sex. But this was not so; she had married for situation, and soon found the burthen she had imposed upon herself far outweighed the advantages she had contemplated in the step she had taken. Unhappiness was the first natural result; and in the absence of religious principle, young, beauteous, and fascinating, she soon found in the universal admiration paid her, a delusive balm to alleviate the society of a husband considerably older than herself, and who had married her from the pride of calling a person so admired his own. Under these circumstances, Lady Hamlet Vernon could not remain without the stigma of slander attaching to her.
The early demise, however, of Lord Hamlet Vernon liberated her from the hazard of her situation, and at five-and-twenty she found herself again free. Titled, and with great wealth at her command, she was too clever for the empty votaries of folly, but too clever also to be entirely set aside by them. She was, at the same time, too much sujetté à caution to be admitted on terms of unguarded intimacy amongst those in her own sphere who were observers of religious and moral conduct, and who happily form the aggregate of distinguished society in England. Left without choice, therefore, as to who should be her associates, Lady Hamlet Vernon was drawn into a society where the errors of her early conduct were, by the contagion of example, sure to be confirmed, and the remainder of any good principles that she might have possessed, in danger of being subverted; for it was not the least evil arising out of the system of the society alluded to, that the persons composing it were under a compact of exclusion of all who differed from them in habit and opinions; and, thus deprived of the power of comparison, their own conduct wanted that useful touchstone of its rectitude.
We are all alive to impressions daily made upon us; and if a life of carelessness and dissipation is not to be checked by an occasional example of what is truly excellent and worthy in character, the moral perception between right and wrong of its mistaken votaries will soon be blunted, till at last both their ears and eyes are closed to all remonstrance. The riper in years, therefore, were sure to have their false estimate of life confirmed; they could not return on their steps, even if they wished it; while the young and the inconsiderate were taught to believe, that those who had so long followed in that destructive but glittering career, were the only objects worthy of imitation, and in their turn became hardened actors in the scene. Although the characters hitherto produced as slaves to this system have been of the weaker sex alone, still let it not be imagined that they were its only victims, or that they alone played their part in upholding it.
If possible, the men of the society were many of them as frivolous, and more vicious; and, though here and there might be found a character that, from family connection or ignorance of the tendency of the society, mingled in its contamination without infection, or making a wreck of principle, yet, far from these solitary instances detracting from the general truth of what has been said, it will be found that such persons, the moment they became aware of the lurking evil, broke from it abruptly; though perhaps, saving themselves with difficulty from the entanglement.
In the members, however, which swelled the list of the male part of this circle, few indeed were there who ever made an effort to withdraw from it. Vice and folly, in manners and in dress—male coquetry—ineffable impertinence—ignorance—detraction of virtue which might have resisted, or talents which eclipsed them—insipidity in mind, and effeminacy in person—devotion to luxury,—these, and more than these, if such could be catalogued, of the immoralities and follies of man, were all to be found here, in degree and kind, revolving in their different orbits—and fulfilling their allotted parts in the system, till their existence closed. What though wit might sometimes play around their board, or the quick repartee enliven the monotonous circle of the evening—what though talent might be allowed, for a brief season, to expatiate on higher topics, and the deep discourse of great human learning might be suffered to dwell at intervals on subjects more intellectual—yet what profited this to those who listened or to those who spoke?—The moment's amusement, the indulgence of mere curiosity, the establishing of some political tenet or philosophical dogma, were alone the objects looked to. Talents, when found in this society, were in fact directed to none but worldly views; and the feeling which should have guided their possessors to acknowledge the bounty of the Author who bestowed them, and a faithful employment of his gifts, was not only wanting, but the sacred religion of that very Author was too frequently made an exercise for them—a subject of their scorn or cavil.
Though untitled, yet of noble family, there was one, who figured first as most licentious and unprincipled among the devotees of ton. He was handsome, winning, specious; but he concealed under this attractive exterior a heart of the blackest dye; no sense of right or wrong checked its impulses. All to him was lawful that was attainable. Pleasure was his object; and he had sailed down the short voyage of his life unchecked by any of those reverses, unscared by any of those feelings of shame or compunction, which would have operated on a weaker mind; and if, for a moment, some enormity of conduct made the more timid—they could not be called the more virtuous—of his associates recoil, the hardened face, the laugh of carelessness, the ready excuse, soon dissipated these transient feelings of shame; and patronized, courted, upheld, in that true esprit de corps which bound each member of the society to protect the other, his youthful career had been run from excess to excess.
Although a person whose weight and influence in themselves were not great, yet he formed from his habits and opinions, and the talents which (though perverted) he really possessed, one of those ties in a fabric, which being multiplied, keep the whole body compact; and, having once obtained a footing in Lady Tilney's circle, it followed, as a matter of course, that he should be employed in that remodelling of her society, which it has been seen Lady Tilney was so anxious to effect, and his name therefore was not forgotten in the list, concerning which she intended to consult Prince Luttermanne.
It is well for human nature, that many characters such as have been just described are not often found; it certainly had no compeer in the circle in which it moved. And though the folly of dress—the waste of time—the uselessness of life—indulgence in the excess of luxury, are errors and faults that cannot be too strongly held up to animadversion, yet they are, by comparison, of a venial kind. Their effects, however, ultimately do not prove such; for degradation of intellect must follow a course of indolence, and an obtuseness of conscience must be the consequence of long-neglected duties. Let it not be supposed, therefore, that because Lord Boileau, Lord Baskerville, Lord Marchmont, or Lord Tonnerre, were younger and less matured in a vicious course than another, that therefore their conduct was less deserving of moral censure—the seed that is sown in spring time will grow up to the harvest, and it must be reaped accordingly. The pursuits of a careless life of pleasure, the gaming-table, the society of opera dancers, the intrigues of ton, are not preparations for the maintenance of family consequence and wealth, still less for the fulfilment of the duties of married life, the protection of a wife's conduct, or the education of their offspring. Yet these, it is to be feared, were the sole objects of Lord Boileau, of his companions, and of many others.
Besides these, however, there were characters intended to be included in Lady Tilney's arrangements of a far different complexion, and the very reverse of their inexistence—there were noble politicians, whose lives were passed in any thing but inactivity; there were titled wits, whose places were any thing but sinecures; poets, whose lays found frequent subjects in the galaxy of beauty that surrounded them; and painters, whose talents and winning flatteries constituted their patent of nobility. The admission of all the latter personages was a decided evidence of Lady Tilney's supremacy; for, with few exceptions, she alone considered that to be surrounded by talents was essential to high station, since with the generality of her coterie, the idea of mingling intellect in their pleasures, was rather to destroy than heighten them.