IF, generous reader, you had lived in Charleston, we would take it for granted that you need no further enlightening on any of our very select societies, especially the St. Cecilia; but you may not have enjoyed a residence so distinguished1, rendering2 unnecessary a few explanatory remarks. You must know that we not only esteem3 ourselves the quintessence of refinement4, as we have an undisputed right to do, but regard the world outside as exceedingly stupid in not knowing as much of us as we profess5 to know of ourselves. Abroad, we wonder we are not at once recognized as Carolinians; at home, we let the vulgar world know who we are. Indeed, we regard the outside world-of these States we mean-very much in that light which the Greeks of old were wont6 to view the Romans in. Did we but stop here, the weakness might be pardonable. But we lay claim to Grecian refinement of manners, while pluming7 all our mob-politicians Roman orators8. There is a profanity about this we confess not to like; not that danger can befall it, but because it hath about it that which reminds us of the oyster9 found in the shell of gold. Condescending10, then, to believe there exists outside of our State a few persons silly enough to read books, we will take it for granted, reader, that you are one of them, straightway proceeding12 with you to the St. Cecilia.
You have been a fashionable traveller in Europe? You say-yes! rummaged13 all the feudal14 castles of England, sought out the resting places of her kings, heard some one say "that is poet's corner," as we passed into Westminster Abbey, thought they couldn't be much to have such a corner,--"went to look" where Byron was buried, moistened the marble with a tear ere we were conscious of it, and saw open to us the gulf15 of death as we contemplated16 how greedy graveyard17 worms were banqueting on his greatness. A world of strange fancies came over us as we mused18 on England's poets. And we dined with several Dukes and a great many more Earls, declining no end of invitations of commoners. Very well! we reply, adding a sigh. And on your return to your home, that you may not be behind the fashion, you compare disparagingly19 everything that meets your eye. Nothing comes up to what you saw in Europe. A servant doesn't know how to be a servant here; and were we to see the opera at Covent Garden, we would be sure to stare our eyes out. It is become habitual20 to introduce your conversation with, "when I was in Europe." And you know you never write a letter that you don't in some way bring in the distinguished persons you met abroad. There is something (no matter what it is) that forcibly reminds you of what occurred at the table of my Lady Clarendon, with whom you twice had the pleasure and rare honor of dining. And by implication, you always give us a sort of lavender-water description of the very excellent persons you met there, and what they were kind enough to say of America, and how they complimented you, and made you the centre and all-absorbing object of attraction-in a word, a truly wonderful person. And you will not fail, now that it is become fashionable, to extol21 with fulsome22 breath the greatness of every European despot it hath been your good fortune to get a bow from. And you are just vain enough to forever keep this before your up-country cousins. You say, too, that you have looked in at Almacks. Almacks! alas23! departed greatness. With the rise of the Casino hath it lain its aristocratic head in the dust.
Well!--the St. Cecilia you must know (its counterparts are to be found in all our great cities) is a miniature Almacks-a sort of leach-cloth, through which certain very respectable individuals must pass ere they can become the elite24 of our fashionable world. To become a member of the St. Cecilia-to enjoy its recherch assemblies-to luxuriate in the delicate perfumes of its votaries25, is the besetting26 sin of a great many otherwise very sensible people. And to avenge27 their disappointment at not being admitted to its precious precincts, they are sure to be found in the front rank of scandal-mongers when anything in their line is up with a member. And it is seldom something is not up, for the society would seem to live and get lusty in an atmosphere of perpetual scandal. Any amount of duels28 have come of it; it hath made rich no end of milliners; it hath made bankrupt husbands by the dozen; it hath been the theatre of several distinguished romances; it hath witnessed the first throbbings of sundry29 hearts, since made happy in wedlock30; it hath been the shibolath of sins that shall be nameless here. The reigning31 belles32 are all members (provided they belong to our first families) of the St. Cecilia, as is also the prettiest and most popular unmarried parson. And the parson being excellent material for scandal, Mother Rumor33 is sure to have a dash at him. Nor does this very busy old lady seem over-delicate about which of the belles she associates with the parson, so long as the scandal be fashionable enough to afford her a good traffic.
There is continually coming along some unknown but very distinguished foreigner, whom the society adopts as its own, flutters over, and smothers34 with attentions, and drops only when it is discovered he is an escaped convict. This, in deference35 to the reputation of the St. Cecilia, we acknowledge has only happened twice. It has been said with much truth that the St. Cecilia's worst sin, like the sins of its sister societies of New York, is a passion for smothering36 with the satin and Honiton of its assemblies a certain supercilious37 species of snobby38 Englishmen, who come over here, as they have it (gun and fishing-rod in hand), merely to get right into the woods where they can have plenty of bear-hunting, confidently believing New York a forest inhabited by such animals. As for our squaws, as Mr. Tom Toddleworth would say, (we shall speak more at length of Tom!) why! they have no very bad opinion of them, seeing that they belong to a race of semi-barbarians, whose sayings they delight to note down. Having no society at home, this species of gentry39 the more readily find themselves in high favor with ours. They are always Oxonians, as the sons of green grocers and fishmongers are sure to be when they come over here (so Mr. Toddleworth has it, and he is good authority), and we being an exceedingly impressible people, they kindly40 condescend11 to instruct us in all the high arts, now and then correcting our very bad English. They are clever fellows generally, being sure to get on the kind side of credulous41 mothers with very impressible-headed daughters.
There was, however, always a distinguished member of the St. Cecilia society who let out all that took place at its assemblies. The vulgar always knew what General danced with the lovely Miss A., and how they looked, and what they said to each other; how many jewels Miss A. wore, and the material her dress was made of; they knew who polked with the accomplished42 Miss B., and how like a duchess she bore herself; they had the exact name of the colonel who dashed along so like a knight43 with the graceful44 and much-admired Mrs. D., whose husband was abroad serving his country; what gallant45 captain of dragoons (captains of infantry46 were looked upon as not what they might be) promenaded47 so imperiously with the vivacious48 Miss E.; and what distinguished foreigner sat all night in the corner holding a suspicious and very improper49 conversation with Miss F., whose skirts never were free of scandal, and who had twice got the pretty parson into difficulty with his church. Hence there was a perpetual outgoing of scandal on the one side, and pelting50 of dirt on the other.
When Mr. Soloman sought the presence of Mrs. Swiggs and told her it was all up with the St. Cecilia, and when that august member of the society was so happily disappointed by his concluding with leaving it an undamaged reputation, the whole story was not let out. In truth the society was at that moment in a state of indignation, and its reputation as well-nigh the last stage of disgrace as it were possible to bring it without being entirely51 absorbed. The Baronet, who enjoyed a good joke, and was not over-scrupulous52 in measuring the latitude53 of our credulity, had, it seems, in addition to the little affair with Mrs. Constance, been imprudent enough to introduce at one of the assemblies of the St. Cecilia, a lady of exceedingly fair but frail54 import: this loveliest of creatures-this angel of fallen fame--this jewel, so much sought after in her own casket-this child of gentleness and beauty, before whom a dozen gallant knights55 were paying homage56, and claiming her hand for the next waltz, turned out to be none other than the Anna Bonard we have described at the house of Madame Flamingo57. The discovery sent the whole assembly into a fainting fit, and caused such a fluttering in the camp of fashion. Reader! you may rest assured back-doors and smelling-bottles were in great demand.
The Baronet had introduced her as his cousin; just arrived, he said, in the care of her father-the cousin whose beauty he had so often referred to. So complete was her toilet and disguise, that none but the most intimate associate could have detected the fraud. Do you ask us who was the betrayer, reader? We answer,--
One whose highest ambition did seem that of getting her from her paramour, George Mullholland. It was Judge Sleepyhorn. Reader! you will remember him-the venerable, snowy-haired man, sitting on the lounge at the house of Madame Flamingo, and on whom George Mullholland swore to have revenge. The judge of a criminal court, the admonisher of the erring58, the sentencer of felons59, the habitue of the house of Madame Flamingo-no libertine60 in disguise could be more scrupulous of his standing61 in society, or so sensitive of the opinion held of him by the virtuous62 fair, than was this daylight guardian63 of public morals.
The Baronet got himself nicely out of the affair, and Mr. Soloman Snivel, commonly called Mr. Soloman, the accommodation man, is at the house of Madame Flamingo, endeavoring to effect a reconciliation64 between the Judge and George Mullholland.
1 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
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2 rendering | |
n.表现,描写 | |
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3 esteem | |
n.尊敬,尊重;vt.尊重,敬重;把…看作 | |
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4 refinement | |
n.文雅;高尚;精美;精制;精炼 | |
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5 profess | |
v.声称,冒称,以...为业,正式接受入教,表明信仰 | |
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6 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
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7 pluming | |
用羽毛装饰(plume的现在分词形式) | |
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8 orators | |
n.演说者,演讲家( orator的名词复数 ) | |
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9 oyster | |
n.牡蛎;沉默寡言的人 | |
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10 condescending | |
adj.谦逊的,故意屈尊的 | |
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11 condescend | |
v.俯就,屈尊;堕落,丢丑 | |
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12 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
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13 rummaged | |
翻找,搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 ); 已经海关检查 | |
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14 feudal | |
adj.封建的,封地的,领地的 | |
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15 gulf | |
n.海湾;深渊,鸿沟;分歧,隔阂 | |
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16 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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17 graveyard | |
n.坟场 | |
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18 mused | |
v.沉思,冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 );沉思自语说(某事) | |
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19 disparagingly | |
adv.以贬抑的口吻,以轻视的态度 | |
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20 habitual | |
adj.习惯性的;通常的,惯常的 | |
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21 extol | |
v.赞美,颂扬 | |
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22 fulsome | |
adj.可恶的,虚伪的,过分恭维的 | |
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23 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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24 elite | |
n.精英阶层;实力集团;adj.杰出的,卓越的 | |
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25 votaries | |
n.信徒( votary的名词复数 );追随者;(天主教)修士;修女 | |
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26 besetting | |
adj.不断攻击的v.困扰( beset的现在分词 );不断围攻;镶;嵌 | |
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27 avenge | |
v.为...复仇,为...报仇 | |
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28 duels | |
n.两男子的决斗( duel的名词复数 );竞争,斗争 | |
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29 sundry | |
adj.各式各样的,种种的 | |
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30 wedlock | |
n.婚姻,已婚状态 | |
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31 reigning | |
adj.统治的,起支配作用的 | |
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32 belles | |
n.美女( belle的名词复数 );最美的美女 | |
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33 rumor | |
n.谣言,谣传,传说 | |
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34 smothers | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的第三人称单数 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
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35 deference | |
n.尊重,顺从;敬意 | |
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36 smothering | |
(使)窒息, (使)透不过气( smother的现在分词 ); 覆盖; 忍住; 抑制 | |
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37 supercilious | |
adj.目中无人的,高傲的;adv.高傲地;n.高傲 | |
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38 snobby | |
a.虚荣的 | |
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39 gentry | |
n.绅士阶级,上层阶级 | |
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40 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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41 credulous | |
adj.轻信的,易信的 | |
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42 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
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43 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
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44 graceful | |
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的 | |
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45 gallant | |
adj.英勇的,豪侠的;(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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46 infantry | |
n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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47 promenaded | |
v.兜风( promenade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48 vivacious | |
adj.活泼的,快活的 | |
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49 improper | |
adj.不适当的,不合适的,不正确的,不合礼仪的 | |
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50 pelting | |
微不足道的,无价值的,盛怒的 | |
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51 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
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52 scrupulous | |
adj.审慎的,小心翼翼的,完全的,纯粹的 | |
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53 latitude | |
n.纬度,行动或言论的自由(范围),(pl.)地区 | |
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54 frail | |
adj.身体虚弱的;易损坏的 | |
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55 knights | |
骑士; (中古时代的)武士( knight的名词复数 ); 骑士; 爵士; (国际象棋中)马 | |
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56 homage | |
n.尊敬,敬意,崇敬 | |
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57 flamingo | |
n.红鹳,火烈鸟 | |
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58 erring | |
做错事的,错误的 | |
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59 felons | |
n.重罪犯( felon的名词复数 );瘭疽;甲沟炎;指头脓炎 | |
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60 libertine | |
n.淫荡者;adj.放荡的,自由思想的 | |
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61 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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62 virtuous | |
adj.有品德的,善良的,贞洁的,有效力的 | |
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63 guardian | |
n.监护人;守卫者,保护者 | |
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64 reconciliation | |
n.和解,和谐,一致 | |
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