RELIGION AND MORALITY.

In attempting to give an account of the Religion of the people of Fashion, I feel myself not a little embarrassed. It were, indeed, very much to be wished, that one of their own number would, in the name of the rest, draw up a confession of their faith. This is, perhaps, expecting too much; and yet I cannot but think that it would be a very good employment for some of those modish priests, who pass so much of their time in the circles of Fashion. They give every proof that they have leisure for the undertaking: and the access which they have to these people, by attending them so familiarly at their theatres, their operas, and their routs, must render them perfectly masters of the subject. However, as I am not aware that any thing of this nature is yet taken in hand, I shall lay before my reader such observations as I have been able to make; partly because it seems necessary to the perfection of my work, that something should be said on the subject, and partly because I should be unwilling to afford by my silence any ground for suspicion—that there is no religion in the Fashionable World.

I am, then, in the first place, decidedly of opinion, that people of Fashion are not Atheists; though I am sufficiently aware, that some strict religionists have entertained an opposite conviction. It has been contended by the latter, in support of their hypothesis, that people who believed in a God would have some scruple about taking such liberties with his name, and his attributes, and his threatenings, and, generally, with all his moral prerogatives, as people of Fashion are accustomed to do. There is certainly something plausible in this sort of reasoning, and I must candidly confess, that I have never yet seen it fairly overthrown; but then I cannot think, that it proves their disbelief of a God, though it certainly does prove their want of reverence for him. It seems to me, at the same time, probable, that the ideas of this people, and those of stricter Christians, upon the subject of that reverence which is due to the Deity, may differ sufficiently, to account for these offensive liberties, without having recourse to the hypothesis of atheism. Indeed, when I consider the spirit and construction of that law by which these people are bound, I can find other reasons for their conduct in this respect, besides that which these theorists have assigned. For, to say the truth, those obnoxious expressions from which so much has been inferred, are in perfect unison with the exclusion of a Deity from the rules which regulate their intercourse with each other. The more therefore I reflect on this subject, the more I am confirmed in my opinion, that the charge of Atheism against them is without any just foundation; and that their appeals to God in levity, earnestness, and anger, are designed to shew their contempt of His authority, and not their denial of his being.

I was for a long time of opinion, that these people were believers in Christ; for I had observed, that his name was found in their formularies of devotion, associated with their baptismal designation, and frequently appealed to in their conversation with each other. There were, I confess, many things at the time which staggered me. Having taken up my ideas of the Saviour from those Scriptures which they profess to receive as well as myself, I was not a little astonished at the ultimate difference between us. Their belief of a God was, I knew, inevitable, and forced upon them by every thing in nature and experience; I could therefore conceive, without much difficulty, how they could subscribe to his being, and yet not hallow his name; but I could not with equal facility conceive, that people should go out of their way to embrace a solemn article of revealed religion, only that they might have an opportunity of trifling with the holy name of Him, who was the author and the object of that revelation.

I had, besides, occasion to remark, that this name was seldom appealed to, but by the ladies; and it did not appear in the first instance probable, that the gentlemen would leave them in exclusive possession of a mode of imprecation by which any thing was meant. These and other circumstances excited in my mind a great deal of speculation. I will not, however, trouble my readers with the many conclusions which I drew from them; since an event has occurred, which affords no indifferent evidence, that belief in a Saviour does not form an article of Fashionable religion. The event to which I refer, is the publication of a Memoir of the late Lord Camelford. In this Memoir the author professes to acquaint the world with the last moments of a Fashionable young man who had received a mortal wound in an affair of honour. In perusing this extraordinary narrative, I was much surprised at finding, that neither the dying penitent (for such he is represented to have been) nor his spiritual confessor ever once mentioned the name of Christ. But when, on further attention, I found his Lordship expressing a hope, that his own dying sufferings would expiate his sins, and placing his dependance upon the mercy of his Creator; [53] I had only to conclude, that the Divine was deterred from mentioning a name with which his office must have made him familiar, out of respect for that Fashionable creed from which it is excluded.

There is some reason for supposing that these people believe in the immortality of the soul, the existence of an evil spirit, and a place of future torment. It must, at the same time, be acknowledged, that their ideas on each of these points are so loose and confused, that it is difficult to determine in what sense they apprehend them.

In subscribing, for example, to the immortality of the soul, they give it a value which infinitely exceeds that of the corruptible body: the inference from this, in a fair train of reasoning, would be, that the care of the former is of infinitely more importance than that of the latter. And yet this is manifestly not the inference they draw: for the experience of every week proves, that if they give three hours to the soul, they think it too much; while they will give six days and nights to the body, and think it too little. This is, I confess, a part of their character, of which no satisfactory explanation has ever been given.

I have no other evidence of their belief in an evil Spirit, and a place of future Torment, than the report of their Prayer-books, and the tenor of their conversation. I must, at the same time, acknowledge, that the looseness and frequency with which they refer to Hell and the Devil, on the most ordinary occasions, have excited my doubts whether they use these awful terms in the same religious sense in which orthodox Christians are accustomed to employ them. These doubts have been greatly encouraged by that sceptical facetiousness with which they apply the name of the evil spirit to their Fashionable amusements, and make the place of torment a subject of scenic representation. I will not say that these people do not believe what they thus caricature; but I think it must be obvious that they cannot have any very exact notions of their scriptural import, while they continue to employ them as terms of merriment, and sources of diversion. [57]

Religious worship, though not inculcated as absolutely necessary in the Fashionable World, is yet neither prohibited nor renounced. Certain persons of considerable influence among them, and whose connexion with them arose out of the incidental circumstances of birth, or office, or elevation, have carried into the societies of Fashion some principles which operate as a check upon the natural libertinism of the community. I impute it to this circumstance, rather than to any sober consideration of duty, that religious worship, though it is not esteemed essential to a Fashionable character, is yet not regarded as any impeachment of it. My reason, in a word, for ascribing their conformity in this particular to influence rather than principle, is the difficulty of reconciling it, on any hypothesis besides, to the other parts of their conduct. For it would be a contradiction of ideas to suppose, that persons can seriously mean to worship a God whom they habitually blaspheme; or to pray against a devil, whom they are accustomed to hold out as a bugbear or a joke.

Their mode of worship is generally that which prevails in the country in which they live: they like the credit of an Establishment, and the convenience of taking things as they find them. There are, I am told, some members of Fashion among those who dissent from the established religion. These I shall leave to the care of their Pastors; and proceed to animadvert upon the Fashionable adherents to the religion of the State.

In their manner of observing the rites of public worship, nothing is so remarkable as the degree of refinement they contrive to introduce into every part of it which is capable of being refined upon. Chapels are, for the most part, preferred to Churches; and the reason, among others, for this preference, appears to be, that the modernness of their structure, and their exemption from parochial controul, render them better adapted to such elegant improvements as are requisite for Fashionable piety. Hence that variety of ingenious accommodations, and fanciful ornaments, which gives to their favourite place of devotion the air of a drawing-room: so that a stranger, introduced to their religious assemblies, might be excused for doubting, whether he was about to worship the Deity, or to pay a Fashionable visit. The conduct of their service is, in many cases, marked by an attention to mechanical effect, which is more nearly allied to the parade of the theatre, than to the simplicity of the church. The orators who fill their pulpits, are generally preferred in proportion as they display the captivating attractions of a graceful exterior, and a liberal theology. These preachers have, indeed, a task to execute of no ordinary difficulty. By the tyranny of custom they are compelled to take their text, and to produce their authorities, from the canon of Scripture; and I think it is much to the praise of their dexterity, that so often as they have occasion to discourse from those offensive writings, they yet contrive to give so little offence. How they manage this, I am at a loss to know; unless it be by blinking every question that involves a moral application; or else by allowing their audience the benefit of that Fashionable salvo, that the company present is always excepted.

It has also been remarked by scrupulous observers, that this people perform almost the whole of their public devotions in a posture which rather accommodates their indolence, than expresses their respect for the object of their worship. If this be the fact, it is not a little extraordinary; since they use a liturgy which prescribes kneeling and standing, as well as sitting; and which contains distinct instructions, when each is to be used. I can, indeed, account, without much difficulty, for the disuse of kneeling; because the structure of the pews does not always admit of it: besides that, it is a posture into which people cannot be expected readily to fall in public, who have not much practice in private. But I cannot so easily account for their refusing to stand: for this is notoriously an attitude to which they are sufficiently accustomed. And that they do not consider the posture in which a thing is done, indifferent, is manifest from the zeal with which they rise from their seats, and expect others to do the same, when about to join in a loyal chorus. I wonder it has not occurred to them, that there is some indecency, not to say impiety, in rising from their seats to sing the praises of their King, and keeping them while they sing the praises of their God.

I have before delivered it as my opinion, that this people comply with the custom of public worship, rather from influence than from conviction; and this opinion receives some confirmation from the pains they take to remove those impressions which the offices of religion may have made upon their minds. In the metropolis, the visit to the house of God is succeeded, as soon as may be, by the drive into the Park. Here they meet with a prodigious concourse of persons of their own description; and have the most charming opportunities of seeing the world, exhibiting themselves, and conversing upon the opera of the preceding evening, or the parties for the ensuing week. The effect of this drive, upon their animal spirits and the whole frame of their mind, is just what might have been expected. Though they have so recently assisted at the most awful solemnities, they can now relax into the most idle levity or the most boisterous mirth; and satisfying themselves that they have done their duty, by remembering the Almighty in the first part of the day, they take no common pains to forget him during the remainder.

In the vicinity of the metropolis, and in other places of Fashionable residence, other expedients are resorted to, in order to produce the same happy effect. No sooner has the priest pronounced his Morning benediction, than the carriage which has conveyed the family to church must be driven round the neighbourhood; and the bells and knockers of twenty doors announce, that the restraints of public worship are at an end. This pleasant divertisement is not lost upon the great body of the inhabitants. Persons the farthest removed from all Fashionable pretensions, rejoice with their superiors at this speedy termination of the Sabbath; and, with a servile imitation of their example, pursue their pleasures in some house of entertainment, instead of seeking a second blessing in the house of God. [66]

Though there is something very lively and ingenious in this method of dissipating religious impressions, yet I think it might be an improvement upon the plan, not to allow them to be made at all. Experiments to this effect have been actually tried by some persons of no mean condition, in the Fashionable World, who have wholly renounced the habit of public worship; and these experiments would probably have been tried upon a much larger scale, had it not been for the consideration of setting a pernicious example: for it seems to be a maxim among many of them, that persons in a dependent state may really be benefited by the offices of devotion. With a charity, therefore, that does them honour, they make a sacrifice of their feelings and their time to the interests of their inferiors; and when it is considered, how much whirling in a carriage, gaping, gadding, and gossiping, it takes them, to recover the true tone of dissipation, it will be seen that the sacrifice is not inconsiderable.In observing thus largely upon the religion of the Fashionable World, I have furnished a sufficient clue to their moral character. If, from some hints which have been thrown out in this and the preceding chapter, rigid Christians should be led to infer, that it is no better than it should be, they must be reminded, that people of Fashion have a standard peculiar to themselves; and that, therefore, what are deviations from our standard, are very often near approximations to theirs. In fact, they have acted in this respect with the same convenient policy by which they have been guided in framing every other part of their system. Pleasure being the object upon which a life of Fashion terminates, it was sagaciously enough foreseen, that an unbending morality would be utterly incompatible with the modes, and habits, and plans, of such a career. There remained therefore no alternative, but that of frittering away the strength and substance of the morality of the Gospel, till it became sufficiently tame and pliable for the sphere of accommodation in which it was to act. The consequence has been, that while they employ the same terms to denote their moral ideas, as are in use among Christians in general, yet they limit, or enlarge, their signification, as expediency requires. Thus modesty, honesty, humanity, and sobriety—names, with stricter moralists, for the purest virtues—are so modified and liberalized by Fashionable casuists, as to be capable of an alliance with a low degree of every vice to which they stand opposed. A woman may expose her bosom, paint her face, assume a forward air, gaze without emotion, and laugh without restraint, at the loosest scenes of theatrical licentiousness; and yet be, after all,—a modest woman. A man may detain the money which he owes his tradesman, and contract new debts for ostentatious superfluities, while he has neither the means nor the inclination to pay his old ones; and yet be, after all,—a very honest fellow. A woman of Fashion may disturb the repose of her family every night, abandon her children to mercenary nurses, and keep her horses and her servants in the streets till day-break,—without any impeachment of her humanity. So the gentleman of Fashion may swallow his two or three bottles a-day, and do all his friends the kindness to lay them under the table as often as they dine with him; yet, if constitution or habit secure him against the same ignominious effects, he claims to be considered—a sober man.

There would be no end of going over all the eccentricities of Fashionable morality. To those who exact that truth which allows of no duplicity, that honour which scorns all baseness, and that virtue which wars with every vice, I question but every thing in the morals of this people would appear anomalous and extraordinary: but to those who consider, how necessary a certain portion of wickedness is to such a life of sense as these people must necessarily lead, it will not be matter of surprise that there should be so little genuine morality among them; the wonder will rather be—that there should be any at all.