The Clergyman's Wife and Other Sketches/Manner Mutations
MANNER MUTATIONS.
r. and Mrs. Lipscome, to all appearance, are a very pleasant, polite, socially ornamental couple; everything pertaining to them is as unexceptionable as their attire, that is, when you meet them in "company costume;" but O! the difference, if you chance to behold them in undress! See Mrs. Lipscome in the morning, in her breakfast wrapper, (not a particularly neat or tasteful one,) before those rebellious brown locks are bandolined into stiff smoothness, or cast into the bondage of braids, and ere her somewhat ample proportions have been compressed into wasp-like outlines, and draped in faithful illustration of the last Parisian fashion plate,—and her mind is as much en déshabille as her person. She moves about in a careless, ungainly way; her actions are almost vulgar; her voice is loud or sharp; her language verges upon coarseness; she is brusque, nay, positively uncivil; in fact, she might easily be mistaken for one of her own "hired helps."
But observe her, a few hours later, receiving visitors in her own drawing-room, or a guest herself at the residence of a friend; what a metamorphosis! Her manners have undergone the same mutation as her raiment! Whose bearing can be more decorous than hers? Look at the graceful attitude in which she sits! See with what conscious dignity she walks! Listen to her voice, softened to the low tone of good-breeding! Mark how choice are her expressions! How highly proper are the sentiments to which she gives utterance! With the adornment of her person, her character is becomingly apparelled, and both are charmingly revealed together. Strange to say, this illusive sheen and enamel are such admirable counterfeits that they pass for genuine brilliancy and polish. She almost makes you doubt that you ever heard her use the unrefined phrases that shocked your ears, perhaps that very morning; or that you really beheld her bustling about, scolding the children, flying at the servants, snubbing her husband, and going into "tantrums" over the fracture of china. The destruction of all the porcelain treasures of Sévres could not ruffle those fine feathers which she now wears so complacently, or make her forget the rôle for which she is so elaborately costumed.
Mr. Lipscome's deportment is subject to the same singular variability, dependent upon his toilette. In his shabby business suit, or in his faded dressing-gown and well-worn slippers, he is uncouth as Caliban, oblivious of all forms, familiar to rudeness with his friends, and almost savage to his wife. The usual locality of his feet we forbear to mention, and his favorite postures are not sufficiently classic to be described in history. He selfishly consults no one's comfort but his own, and when the latter is interfered with, his indignation finds vent in utterances too profane to be registered. But when Mr. Lipscome is "gotten up" for a soirée, lo! the transformation! His patent-leather boots are not more highly polished than his demeanor. The elegance of his attire is almost eclipsed by the refinement of his deportment. He is not merely respectful to the gentler sex, but actually reverential; zealous in promoting their pleasure, and lavish of all those petits soins by which man expresses to woman his tender guardianship as a superior, and his flattering devotion as an inferior. Mr. Lipscome's grum silence gives place to a voluble persiflage which passes for agreeable conversation; and, as for any of the irreverent ejaculations with which he interspersed his discourse, when he wore a rusty outside, there's magic in that black suit, and those white kid gloves, to suppress such emphasis altogether. But let him put away his dress-coat, and be sure he will carefully lay his good breeding in lavender, by its side.
It is not difficult to solve the mystery of this marvellous mutation of manner with change of apparel. When an actor is attiring himself for the stage, we well know, that at the moment he endues himself with the costume suited to his part, the spirit of personation comes upon him; he readily imagines himself to be the individual he is "making himself up" to represent. The Lipscomes are only players on the world's great stage,—bedizened puppets of the hour,—admirable shams, robed to enact the parts of lady and gentleman. You meet them every day under many names, and never suspect the imposture. See them en déshabille and you may always discover the cheat. Were the characters they assume their own, refinement, good breeding, grace, would be apparent in any attire, however simple, or humble, or even disordered.