From the Oracle.

My LADS!

I ADDRESS myself to you familiarly, because I am well aware that any style in the least resembling ceremony, or even common politeness, would be voted a bore, and subject the writer to the contempt of your whole fraternity. Hard is the task, Herculean is the labour I have undertaken! What? Instruct a Man of Ton! a being of a superior order, who, disdaining the petty rules by which society is linked and connected, boldly soars above all restraint, and creates an empire of his own, subject to no law but his sovereign will and pleasure! However, I do not wish to convert you to orderly members of the community; but merely give you some hints by which you may attain the summit of Ton: ,

1st. You must entirely divert yourself of seeing and hearing: tasting and smelling will establish your fame as connoisseurs in wines and sauces; and as to feeling, the bailiffs are in such constant habits of exercising that sense, that I fear yon must be content to retain it.

2d. Whenever you enter a mixed company, assume the most absent air: and if it should be asserted that your dearest and most intimate friend had shot himself, exclaim with surprise, “Indeed! Well, I always said that cursed ratafia would kill the old girl.”

3d. Never fall in love, as it would create an agitation totally inconsistent with the apathy of a Man of Ton.

4th. Never ride, because it is too fatiguing; and never walk, because it is too common.

5th. During the Opera admire Parisot’s step, and in the Ballet praise Banti’s cadence.

In short, my lads! be as ridiculous as you can, set all modesty at defiance, act directly contrary to the rational part of mankind, and you will then be complete Men of Ton.

Yours,
THE SHADE OF CHESTERFIELD.

Quoted from: The Spirit of the Public Journals for 1802. Vol. VI. London, 1803.