Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.

bet upon the ensuing Epsom races; by the bye his losses have been very considerable in that way. He has also at all times been a dupe to the sex. It is said that Susan B----, a dashing Cyprian, eased his purse of a £500 bill, and whilst he was dancing in pursuit of her, she was dancing to the tune of a Fife; a clear proof she ~173~~had an ear for music as well as an eye to business. But I believe it was played in a different Key to what he expected; whether it was a minor Key or not I cannot exactly say. “At a ball or assembly he conceives himself quite at home, satisfied that he is the admiration of the whole of the company present; and were he to give an account of himself, it would most likely be in substance nearly as follows: “When I enter the room, what a whisp'ring is heard; My rivals, astonish'd, scarce utter a word; “How charming! (cry all; ) how enchanting a fellow! How neat are those small-clothes, how killingly yellow. Not for worlds would I honour these plebs with a smile, Tho' bursting with pride and delight all the while; So I turn to my cronies (a much honour'd few,); Crying, “S--z--m, how goes it?--Ah, Duchess, how do? Ton my life, yonder's B--uf, and Br--ke, and A--g--le, S-ff--d, W--tm--1--d, L--n, and old codger C--ri--le.” Now tho', from this style of address, it appears That these folks I have known for at least fifty years, The fact is, my friends, that I scarcely know one, A mere “façon de parler,” the way of the ton. What tho' they dislike it, I answer my ends, Country gentlemen stare, and suppose them my friends. But my beautiful taste (as indeed you will guess) Is manifest most in my toilet and dress; My neckcloth of course forms my principal care, For by that we criterions of elegance swear, And costs me each morning some hours of flurry, To make it appear to be tied in a hurry. My boot-tops, those unerring marks of a blade, With Champagne are polish'd, and peach marmalade; And a violet coat, closely copied from B--ng, With a cluster of seals, and a large diamond ring; And troisièmes of buckskin, bewitchingly large, Give the finishing stroke to the “_parfait ouvrage_.” During this animated description of the gay personage alluded to, Bob had listened with the most undeviating attention, keeping his eye all the time on this extravagant piece of elegance and fashion, but could not help bursting into an immoderate fit of laughter at its conclusion. In the mean time the crowd of visitors had continued to increase; all appeared to be bustle and confusion; small parties were seen in groups communicating together in different places, and every face appeared to be animated by hopes or fears. Dashall was exchanging familiar ~174~~nods and winks with those whom lie knew; but as their object was not to buy, they paid but little attention to the sales of the day, rather contenting themselves with a view of the human cattle by which they were surrounded, when they were pleasingly surprised to observe their friend Sparkle enter, booted and spurred. “Just the thing! (said Sparkle,) I had some suspicion of finding you here. Are you buyers? Does your Cousin want a horse, an ass, or a filly?” Tom smiled; “Always upon the ramble, eh, Sparkle. Why ask such questions? You know we are well horsed; but I suppose if the truth was known, you are _prad_ sellers; if so, shew your article, and name your price.” “Apropos,” said Sparkle; “Here is a friend of mine, to whom I must introduce you, so say no more about articles and prices--I have an article in view above all price--excuse me.” And with this he made his way among the tribe of Jockeys, Sharpers, and Blacklegs, and in a minute returned, bringing with him a well-dressed young man, whose manners and appearance indicated the Gentleman, and whose company was considered by Tom and his Cousin as a valuable acquisition. “Mr. Richard Mortimer,” said Sparkle, as he introduced his friend--“the Hon. Mr. Dashall, and Mr. Robert Tallyho.” After the mutual interchanges of politeness which naturally succeeded this introduction--“Come,” said Sparkle, “we are horsed, and our nags waiting--we are for a ride, which way do you bend your course?” “A lucky meeting,” replied Tom; “for we are upon the same scent; I expect my curricle at Hyde-Park Corner in ten minutes, and have no particular line of destination.” “Good,” said Sparkle; “then we may hope to have your company; and how disposed for the evening?” “Even as chance may direct.” “Good, again--all right--then as you are neither buyers nor sellers, let us employ the remaining ten minutes in looking around us--there is nothing to attract here--Epsom Races are all the talk, and all of business that is doing--come along, let us walk through the Park--let the horses meet us at Kensington Gate, and then for a twist among the briers and brambles.” This was readily agreed to: orders were given to the servants, and the party proceeded towards the Park.~175~~ CHAPTER XIII What is Bon Ton? Oh d---- me (cries a Buck, Half drunk, ) ask me, my dear, and you're in luck: Bon Ton's to swear, break windows, beat the Watch, Pick up a wench, drink healths, and roar a catch. Keep it up, keep it up! d---- me, take your swing-- Bon Ton is Life, my boy! Bon Ton's the thing! “Ah, I loves Life and all the joys it yields-- (Says Madam Fussock. warm from Spitalfields; ) Bon Ton's the space 'twixt Saturday and Monday, And riding out in one-horse shay o' Sunday; 'Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons At Bagnigge Wells, with china and gilt spoons; 'Tis laying by our stuffs, red cloaks and pattens, To dance cowtillions all in silks and satins.” “Vulgar! (cries Miss) observe in higher Life The feather'd spinster and three feather'd wife; The Club's Bon Ton--Bon Ton's a constant trade Of rout, festino, ball and masquerade; 'Tis plays and puppet shows--'tis something new-- 'Tis losing thousands every night at loo; Nature it thwarts, and contradicts all reason; 'Tis stiff French stays, and fruit when out of season, A rose, when half a guinea is the price; A set of bays scarce bigger than six mice; To visit friends you never wish to see-- Marriage 'twixt those who never can agree; Old dowagers, dress'd, painted, patch'd and curl'd-- This is Bon Ton, and this we call the World! AS they passed through the gate, Tom observed it was rather too early to expect much company. “Never mind,” said Sparkle, “we are company enough among ourselves; the morning is fine, the curricle not arrived, and we shall find plenty of conversation, if we do not discover interesting character, to diversify our promenade. Travelling spoils conversation, unless you are squeezed like an Egyptian mummy into a stage or a mail-coach; and perhaps in that case you may meet with animals who have voices, without possessing the power of intellect to direct them to any useful or agreeable purpose.” ~176~~Tallyho, who was at all times delighted with Sparkle's descriptions of society and manners, appeared pleased with the proposition. “Your absence from town,” continued Sparkle, addressing himself to Dashall, “has prevented my introduction of Mr. Mortimer before, though you have heard me mention his Sister. They are now inhabitants of our own sphere of action, and I trust we shall all become better known to each other.” This piece of information appeared to be truly acceptable to all parties. Young Mortimer was a good-looking and well made young man; his features were animated and intelligent; his manners polished, though not quite so unrestrained as those which are to be acquired by an acquaintance with metropolitan associations. “I am happy,” said he, “to be introduced to any friends of your's, and shall be proud to number them among mine.” “You may,” replied Sparkle, “with great safety place them on your list; though you know I have already made it appear to you that friendship is a term more generally made use of than understood in London-- “For what is Friendship but a name, A charm which lulls to sleep, A shade that follows wealth and fame, And leaves the wretch to weep? And Love is still an emptier sound, The modern fair one's jest; On earth unseen, or only found To warm the turtle's nest.” “These sentiments are excellently expressed,” said Tom, pinching him by the arm--“and I suppose in perfect consonance with your own?” Sparkle felt 'the rebuke, look'd down, and seem'd confused; but in a moment recovering himself, “Not exactly so,” replied he; “but then you know, and I don't mind confessing it among friends, though you are aware it is very unfashionable to acknowledge the existence of any thing of the kind, I am a pupil of nature.” “You seem to be in a serious humour all at once,” said young Mortimer. ~177~~“Can't help it,” continued Sparkle--“for, “Let them all say what they will, Nature will be nature still.” “And that usurper, or I should rather say, would be usurper, Fashion, is in no way in alliance with our natures. I remember the old Duchess of Marlborough used to say 'That to love some persons very much, and to see often those we love, is the greatest happiness I can enjoy;' but it appears almost impossible for any person in London to secure such an enjoyment, and I can't help feeling it.” By the look and manner with which this last sentiment was uttered, Tom plainly discovered there was a something labouring at his heart which prompted it. “Moralizing!” said he. “Ah, Charley, you are a happy fellow. I never yet knew one who could so rapidly change '_from grave to gay, from lively to severe_; and for the benefit of our friends, I can't help thinking you could further elucidate the very subject you have so feelingly introduced.” “You are a quiz” said Sparkle; “but there is one thing to be said, I know you, and have no great objection to your hits now and then, provided they are not knock down blows.” “But,” said Mortimer, “what has this to do with friendship and love? I thought you were going to give something like a London definition of the terms.” “Why,” said Sparkle, “in London it is equally difficult to get to love any body very much, or often to meet those that we love. There are such numbers of acquaintances, such a constant succession of engagements of one sort or other, such a round of delights, that the town resembles Vauxhall, where the nearest and dearest friends may walk round and round all night without once meeting: for instance, at dinner you should see a person whose manners and conversation are agreeable and pleasing to you; you may wish in vain to become more intimate, for the chance is, that you will not meet so as to converse a second time for many months; for no one can tell when the dice-box of society may turn up the same numbers again. I do not mean to infer that you may not barely see the same features again; it is possible that you may catch a glimpse of them on the opposite side of Pall ~178~~Mall or Bond-street, or see them near to you at a crowded rout, without a possibility of approaching. “It is from this cause, that those who live in London are so totally indifferent to each other; the waves follow so quick, that every vacancy is immediately filled up, and the want is not perceived. The well-bred civility of modern times, and the example of some 'very popular people,' it is true, have introduced a shaking of hands, a pretended warmth, a dissembled cordiality, into the manners of the cold and warm, alike the dear friend and the acquaintance of yesterday. Consequently we