LETTER LXXXVI.

Vienna.

The manners of this court are considerably altered since Lady Mary Wortley Montague was here, particularly since the accession of the present Empress, whose understanding and affability have abridged many of the irksome ceremonials formerly in use. Her son’s philosophical turn of mind, and the amiable and conciliating characters of her whole family, have no doubt tended to put society in general upon a more easy and agreeable footing.

People of different ranks now do business together with ease, and meet at public places without any of those ridiculous disputes about precedency, of which the ingenious English lady has given such lively descriptions.—Yet trifling punctilios are not so completely banished, as I imagine, the Emperor could wish, he himself being the least punctilious person in his dominions:—for there is certainly still a greater separation than good sense would direct, between the various classes of the subjects.—The sentiments of a people change very gradually, and it takes a course of years before reason, or even the example of the Sovereign, can overcome old customs and prejudices.

The higher, or ancient families, keep themselves as distinct from the inferior, or newly-created nobility, as these do from the citizens: So that it is very difficult for the inferior classes to be in society, or to have their families much connected with those of the superior ranks. And what is of more importance in a political sense, there are certain places of high trust in the government, which cannot be occupied by any but the higher order of nobility.

Would you not think it disadvantageous for a government to keep a law in force which enacts, that the offices in the state which require the greatest abilities, should be filled from that class of the community in which there is the least chance of finding them?—Perhaps the usage above mentioned is nearly equivalent to such a law. As for the peasants, who are entirely out of the question, they are, in many parts of the Emperor’s dominions, in a state of perfect slavery, and almost totally dependent on the proprietors of the land.

The ideas relative to dress seem to have entirely changed since Lady Mary’s time, and if the dress of the ladies be still as absurd, it is at least not so singular; for they, like the rest of Europe, have now adopted the Parisian modes.

The present race of Austrian ladies can differ in nothing more than they do in looks from their grandmothers, who, if any of them were still alive, may be as beautiful at this day as they were when she wrote; for time itself could hardly improve that ugliness, which, according to her, was in full bloom sixty years ago. I have not as yet enquired what method the parents have devised to remedy this inconveniency; but nothing is more certain than that it is remedied very effectually, for at present there is no scarcity of female beauty at the court of Vienna.

This being the case, it is natural to imagine that gallantry must now be more prevalent than when her ladyship was here. But exclusive of any real difference, which may have happened in the sentiments of the ladies themselves, they are obliged to observe an uncommon degree of circumspection in that particular, as nothing is more heinous in the eyes of her Imperial Apostolic Majesty. She seems to think that the ladies of her court, like the wife of Cæsar, should not only be free from guilt, but, what is still more difficult, free from suspicion, and strongly marks by her manner, that she is but too well informed when any piece of scandal circulates to the prejudice of any of them.

With regard to what Lady Mary calls sub-marriages, and of which she has given such a curious account, I do not imagine they are common at present, in all the latitude of her description. But it is not uncommon for married ladies here to avow the greatest degree of friendship and attachment to men who are not their husbands, and to live with them in great intimacy, without hurting their reputation, or being suspected, even by their own sex, of having deviated from the laws of modesty.

One evening at the Count Thune’s, when there was a pretty numerous company, I observed one lady uncommonly sad, and enquired of her intimate friend who happened to be there also, if she knew the cause of this sadness?—I do, replied she; Mr. de ——, whom she loves very tenderly, ought to have been here a month ago; and last night she received a letter from him, informing her that he cannot be at Vienna for a month to come. But pray, said I, does your friend’s husband know of this violent passion she has for Mr. de ——? Yes, yes, answered she, he knows it, and enters with the most tender sympathy into her affliction; he does all that can be expected from an affectionate husband to comfort and soothe his wife, assuring her that her love will wear away with time. But she always declares that she has no hopes of this, because she feels it augment every day.—Mais, au fond, continued the lady, cela lui fait bien de la peine, parceque malheureusement il aime sa femme à la folie. Et sa femme, qui est la meilleure créature du monde, plaint infiniment son pauvre mari; car elle a beaucoup d’amitié et d’estime pour lui;—mais elle ne scauroit se défaire de cette malheureuse passion pour Mons. de ——.

I was not in the least surprised that a disappointment of this nature should affect a woman a little; but I own it did astonish me that she should appear in public, on such an occasion, in all the ostentation of sorrow, like a young widow vain of her weeds. Here this passion was lamented by her friends as a misfortune: In England, if I rightly remember, such misfortunes are generally imputed to people as crimes.