It will not do!, We find we must not approach to near the truth as an initial, or a title;, as *****, or — – –. Our sketches of men and women of fashion, , of lords and ladies, , are not (like the ‘characters’ smeared in honey by the litterateurs of France during the last century, or even like those traced with a slight admixture of lime juice by Madame du Deffand or the President Henault) addressed simply to the perusal of the originals and their brilliant coteries; and although far from purporting to rival the causticity of La Bruyere, or the aqua fortis outlines of Theophrastus, it appears they are sufficiently true to nature to give offence. Had we been aware that our dear Lady Tiverton was so rich in ‘d-d good-natured friends’ to point out to her unwilling eyes the likeness of our portrait, we would have given it as that of Pastora, or Amanda. His — of — will pardon us if we generalize his own dignities under the euphonious name of ‘NlCANDER.’
Nicander, then, , ‘ le grand Nicandre,’ , is a young man, at five and forty ;, not a ‘ci-devant jeune homme,’ not an obsolete dandy, aping the fashions and frivolities of the boys of the day; but what is infinitely more unaccountable, young in heart, soul, and spirit; enjoying, not affecting, the diversions of youth; really pleased with a feather, , really tickled with a straw, , provided always that the feather wave above the fair brows of a graceful and well-turned head; and that the straw be wielded by the hand of a happy disporter of nothings,, a Mulgrave or a Sheridan.
To have passed five-and-twenty years amid the wars of that battle-field of meanness and folly, the great world,, to have buffeted with its billows of eau sucrée, and been tortured a coup d’épingles by its bodkins of gold,, and yet to preserve a vulnerable part,, a spot, whether on heel or heart, where wounds may be inflicted and anguish sustained, is a singular mark of sensibility; and Nicander, in spite of fights, sieges, and blockades without end, , in spite of all the earthquakes, volcanoes, and hurricanes of fashionable life,, has a heart to be lost as surely as he has a soul to be saved. Endowed like the tortoise with a shell of reserve, into which he retreats for peace or safety whenever the storm becomes too violent or the sense of injury too painful, his susceptibility remains undiminished. Nicander can look as cold and aristocratic as he pleases; can reject loftily, resent sternly. But there are tears in his eyes oftener than in those of most men of his age; and the heart of the man of fashion, highest and first of his degree, sometimes beats so strongly that he is heartily ashamed of it!
Nicander is a man of fine and delicate taste; but of all his mental qualifications, this being the one cultivated with least expense of trouble to an indolent temperament, it has become somewhat too prominently developed for the dignity of his sex. (Where other men exercise their judgment, Nicander relies upon natural refinement of mind, perfected by long experience in all that is graceful, elegant, and classical. The noblest productions of art and science are perpetually before him. He lives with the wisest, wittiest, most gifted, most imaginative persons of the time; the ablest men, the most accomplished women, the most distinguished artists. His senses are rarely discomposed by unsightly or disagreeable objects; the most exquisite groups, the most harmonious sounds, compete for his approbation. Nicander has, consequently, become too reliant upon the ipse dixit of his own ‘I like it,’, or ‘She does not please me.’, It is true his taste is exquisite; but, after all, it does but instigate the fiat of a solitary epicurean.
Nicander is a man of some accomplishment. Had necessity prompted his early exertions, he would have made an elegant scholar; but his predilection for classical acquirements, and a natural tendency to the poetical, have been obliterated by the poésie mise en action of a life of luxury and pleasure.
Nicander, with more of the brilliancies of fortune at his disposal than has fallen to the lot of any man of modern times (with the exception of a Churchman or two, a Wolscy, a Mazarin, or a Richelieu), is far from exempt from the vexations common to humanity. Trop peu remuant to have dazzled the world as an Alcibiades, endowed with too high a sense of moral rectitude to play the Wharton or the Buckingham,, his happiness has chiefly consisted in the indulgence and cultivation of the natural affections of the heart. But, without dwelling on deep-seated mortifications inflicted by the errors of others (mortifications redeemed by singular good-fortune in an extensive and attached circle of family connections),, it is undeniable that Nicander has hitherto been the dupe of his own attachments. In affairs of the heart, he has learnt to mistrust others,, he has learnt to mistrust himself; till the consciousness of former injuries induces him to play the traitor, lest he should be made a victim to the treacherous. Keeping watch over his own weakness, he is careful not to repay with the sterling gold of attachment the glittering mica perpetually showered upon him ;, keeping watch over his own dignity, he is careful to disguise under an assumed loftiness of demeanour the mistrustfulness and jealousies of his own experience, and the sensibility that outlives them all. From his position in society, he is constrained to play the patron, the benefactor, the illustrissimo. Nicander does not dislike the glory of such a vocation; but he would willingly monopolize, at the same moment, the equality, the unreserve, the fidelity, the truth, the trust, of humble and confiding love. Impossible! Il faut opter!
Disappointed on this head, Nicander strives to restrict himself to the enjoyments of family affection, and the more sober ties of friendship. But if the light wings of Love are inefficient to overpass the gulph created around him by eminence of wealth and station, the bridge thrown across the chasm by the hands of Friendship is more narrow than that of El Sirat! Of the small number of persons raised above all suspicion of interested motives, in seeking his friendship with the degree of ardour indispensable to satisfy a mind so susceptible as that of Nicander, one is buried in the cares of empire,, another engrossed by the varied and importunate connections hourly created by his own popularity,, a third is at length absorbed by the ties of domestic life. Amid all tumults of pleasure and diversion that stun the ears of Nicander, he sometimes misses the small voice that should moralize with him on it: hollowness, or redouble his enjoyments by participation. His contemporaries have, at best, divided attention to lend him;, the inconséquences of the rising generation require too much indulgence for his patience;, and women have been trusted too often to be trusted again. Nicander is occasionally compelled to appear heartless; the world should discover that he has too much heart!
Prodigal, luxurious, and magnificent, in the artificial habits of life, the personal tastes of Nicander are simplicity itself, and he has the best apology to society even for his prodigy and luxuriousness, by a thousand generous ?? within as well as beyond the circle of his fine connections. He has been accused of ?? from the duties of public life, and the ?? incumbent upon a man possessing a ?? stake in the country. But, having delegated his duties to able and honest hands,, having sufficed large revenues for the advantage of his fellow-countrymen,, he has wisely contended himself with wearing the mantle of state with dignity and honor, at a moment when such pages demand the utmost defence in the virtues of their wearer.
Nicander will never marry. The ??? and purity of girlhood are not often found united with the companion womanhood, the dignity of high lineage, and the tact of conventional high-breeding, his unique position. Long accustomed to such impossibilities, Nicander once hoped bright wonder might be born for his sake. He has resigned the expectation, , he has been contented with his own resignation, had so much pains taken to render him sit with less than the one thing needful. He had thousand pleasures,, a thousand gratifications and a vocation to enjoy them all:, if any one being can afford to dispense with Nicander. Eminently good-natured, his presence is continually sought to allay the sensions, and tranquilize the feminine of his coterie. He has reconciled many a squabble, and facilitated many match :, he secures everybody’s destiny but his own.
So long as the deceptious atmosphere of youth surrounds the person of Nicander, his ?? is safe; and who can tell what golden enjoyment the favourite of fortune may be secretly hoarded up for his old age?, ?? and Oxford have long been before his beacons of warning. May happier fate await Nicander!
From: The Court Journal or Gazette of the fashionable world. 15. Juni 1833.