This degradation of both sexes has arisen from various causes. Beauty is now less rare, accomplishments more common, dress less distinguished, dignity worse preserved, and decorum less attended to, than in former times. It is a great mistake in women not to recollect their own importance, and keep up that just medium between reserve and familiarity which constitutes the best criterion whereby to appreciate the manners of a gentlewoman. But women are too apt to run into extremes in every thing; and overlook the fact, that neither personal beauty nor drawing-room display are calculated to form permanent attractions, even to the most adoring lover.—The breakfast-table in the morning, and fire-side in the evening, must be the ultimate touch-stones of connubial comfort; and this is a maxim which any woman who intends to marry should never lose sight of.
To such lengths did respect for the fair sex extend, and so strong was the impression formerly that men were bound to protect it even from accidental offence, that I remember the time, (indeed I witnessed two instances,) when, if any gentleman presumed to pass between a lady and the wall in walking the streets of Dublin, he was considered as offering a personal affront to her escort; and if the parties wore swords, (as was then customary,) it is probable the first salutation to the offender would be—“Draw, sir!” However, such affairs usually ended in an apology to the lady for inadvertence, scarcely ever proceeding to extremities unless the offence was premeditated.
But if a man ventured to intrude into the boxes of the theatre in his surtout, or boots, or with his hat on, it was regarded as a general insult to every lady present, and he had little chance of escaping without a shot or a thrust before the following night. Every gentleman then wore in the evening a sword, a queue, and a three-cocked hat—appointments rather too fierce-looking for the modern dandy! whilst the morning dress consisted of what was then called a French frock, (having no skirt-pockets,) a waistcoat bordered with lace, velvet or silk breeches, silk stockings, pumps, and a couteau de chasse, with a short, curved broad blade—the handle of green ivory, with a lion’s head in silver or gilt at the end, and a treble chain dangling loose from its mouth, terminating at an ornamented cross or guard, which surmounted the green scabbard. Such was the costume: but although either the male or female attire of that day might now appear rather grotesque, yet people of fashion had then the exclusive dress and air of such, and ladies ran no risk of being copied in garb or manner, or rivalled, perhaps surpassed, by their pretty waiting-maids—now called “young persons!”—who not unfrequently first ape, then traduce, and next supplant, their mistresses. The nice young governesses also, (of twenty,) now selected to instruct young ladies of seventeen, present a modern system of education to which, I believe, Doctors Commons is under obligation.
The Irish court at that period was kept up with great state, and hence the parties who frequented it were more select. I recollect when the wives and daughters of attorneys (who now, I believe, are the general occupiers of the red benches, then solely the seats of nobles) were never admitted to the viceregal drawing-rooms. How far the present growing system of equality in appearance among different ranks will eventually benefit or injure society in general, is for casuists, not for me, to determine. I must, however, take occasion to own myself an admirer, and (whenever it is proper) a zealous contender for distinction of ranks; and to state my decided opinion, that superior talents, learning, military reputation, or some other quality which raises men by general assent, should alone be permitted to amalgamate common with high society. Nature, by conferring talent, points out those whom she intended to distinguish: but “free agency” too frequently counteracts the intention of Nature, and great talent is often overpowered, and lost in a crowd of inferior propensities.
It is an observation I have always made, (although it may be perhaps considered a frivolous one,) that dress has a moral effect upon the conduct of mankind. Let any gentleman find himself with dirty boots, old surtout, soiled neckcloth, and a general negligence of dress, he will, in all probability, find a corresponding disposition to negligence of address. He may, en deshabille, curse and swear, speak roughly and think coarsely: but put the same man into full dress; powder, or at least curl him well, clap a sword by his side, and give him an evening coat, waistcoat, breeches, and silk stockings, lace ruffles and a chapeau bras, and he will feel himself quite another person!—To use the language of the blackguard would then be out of character: he will talk smoothly, affect politeness if he has it not, pique himself upon good manners, and respect the women: nor will the spell subside until, returning home, the old robe de chambre (or its substitute surtout), the heelless slippers, with other slovenly appendages, make him lose again his brief consciousness of being a gentleman!
Some women mistake the very nature and purposes of dress: glaring abroad, they are slatterns at home. The husband detests in his sposa what he is too apt to practise himself: he rates a dirty wife; she retorts upon a filthy husband, and each of them detests the other for that neglect of person which neither will take the trouble of avoiding, except to encounter strangers.
Two ladies, about the period of my entrance into public life, and another some time after, became very conspicuous for their beauty, though extremely different in all points both of appearance and manners. They still live:—two of them I greatly admired—not for beauty alone, but for an address the most captivating; and one of these, especially, for the kindest heart and the soundest sense, when she gave it fair play, that I have (often) met with amongst females.
In admitting my great preference for this individual lady, I may, perhaps, be accused of partiality, less to herself than to a family:—be it so!—she was the wife of my friend, and I esteem her for his sake: but she is an excellent woman, and I esteem the Honourable Mrs. C. Hutchinson also for her own.
Another of the ladies alluded to, Lady M—, is a gentlewoman of high birth, and was then, though not quite a beauty, in all points attractive: indeed, her entire person was symmetrical and graceful. She passed her spring in misfortune—her summer in misery—her autumn without happiness!—but I hope the winter of her days is spent amidst every comfort. Of the third lady I have not yet spoken:—though far inferior to both the former, she has succeeded better in life than either; and, beginning the world without any pretensions beyond mediocrity, is likely to end her days in ease and more than ordinary respectability.
My first knowledge of Lady M— arose from a circumstance which was to me of singular professional advantage; and, as it forms a curious anecdote, I will proceed to relate it.