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diff --git a/35123.txt b/35123.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..72a5af0 --- /dev/null +++ b/35123.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9726 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, and Manual +of Politeness, by Florence Hartley + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, and Manual of Politeness + A Complete Hand Book for the Use of the Lady in Polite Society + +Author: Florence Hartley + +Release Date: January 30, 2011 [EBook #35123] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' BOOK OF ETIQUETTE *** + + + + +Produced by Julia Miller, S.D., and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + + + + + THE + + LADIES' BOOK OF ETIQUETTE, + + AND + + MANUAL OF POLITENESS. + + A COMPLETE HAND BOOK FOR THE USE OF THE LADY IN POLITE SOCIETY. + + CONTAINING + + FULL DIRECTIONS FOR CORRECT MANNERS, DRESS, DEPORTMENT, AND CONVERSATION; + RULES FOR THE DUTIES OF BOTH HOSTESS AND GUEST + IN MORNING RECEPTIONS, DINNER COMPANIES, VISITING, EVENING + PARTIES AND BALLS; A COMPLETE GUIDE FOR LETTER + WRITING AND CARDS OF COMPLIMENT; HINTS + ON MANAGING SERVANTS, ON THE PRESERVATION + OF HEALTH, AND ON ACCOMPLISHMENTS. + + AND ALSO + + USEFUL RECEIPTS FOR THE COMPLEXION, HAIR, AND WITH HINTS + AND DIRECTIONS FOR THE CARE OF THE WARDROBE. + + BY + + FLORENCE HARTLEY, + + AUTHOR OF THE "LADIES' HAND BOOK OF FANCY AND ORNAMENTAL WORK." + + BOSTON: + G. W. COTTRELL, PUBLISHER, + 36 Cornhill. + + + Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by + + G. G. EVANS, + + in the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of + Pennsylvania. + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +In preparing a book of etiquette for ladies, I would lay down as the +first rule, "Do unto others as you would others should do to you." You +can never be rude if you bear the rule always in mind, for what lady +likes to be treated rudely? True Christian politeness will always be the +result of an unselfish regard for the feelings of others, and though you +may err in the ceremonious points of etiquette, you will never be +impolite. + +Politeness, founded upon such a rule, becomes the expression, in +graceful manner, of social virtues. The spirit of politeness consists in +a certain attention to forms and ceremonies, which are meant both to +please others and ourselves, and to make others pleased with us; a still +clearer definition may be given by saying that politeness is goodness of +heart put into daily practice; there can be no _true_ politeness without +kindness, purity, singleness of heart, and sensibility. + +Many believe that politeness is but a mask worn in the world to conceal +bad passions and impulses, and to make a show of possessing virtues not +really existing in the heart; thus, that politeness is merely hypocrisy +and dissimulation. Do not believe this; be certain that those who +profess such a doctrine are practising themselves the deceit they +condemn so much. Such people scout politeness, because, to be truly a +lady, one must carry the principles into every circumstance of life, +into the family circle, the most intimate friendship, and never forget +to extend the gentle courtesies of life to every one. This they find too +much trouble, and so deride the idea of being polite and call it +deceitfulness. + +True politeness is the language of a good heart, and those possessing +that heart will never, under any circumstances, be rude. They may not +enter a crowded saloon gracefully; they may be entirely ignorant of the +_forms_ of good society; they may be awkward at table, ungrammatical in +speech; but they will never be heard speaking so as to wound the +feelings of another; they will never be seen making others uncomfortable +by seeking solely for their own _personal_ convenience; they will always +endeavor to set every one around them at ease; they will be +self-sacrificing, friendly, unselfish; truly in word and deed, _polite_. +Give to such a woman the knowledge of the forms and customs of society, +teach her how best to show the gentle courtesies of life, and you have a +_lady_, created by God, only indebted for the _outward_ polish to the +world. + +It is true that society demands this same unselfishness and courtesy, +but when there is no heart in the work, the time is frittered away on +the mere ceremonies, forms of etiquette, and customs of society, and +this politeness seeks only its own ends; to be known as courteous, +spoken of as lady-like, and not beloved as unselfish and womanly. + +Etiquette exists in some form in all countries, has existed and will +exist in all ages. From the rudest savage who dares not approach his +ignorant, barbarous ruler without certain forms and ceremonies, to the +most polished courts in Europe, or the home circles of America, +etiquette reigns. + +True politeness will be found, its basis in the human heart, the same in +all these varied scenes and situations, but the outward forms of +etiquette will vary everywhere. Even in the same scene, time will alter +every form, and render the exquisite polish of last year, obsolete +rudeness next year. + +Politeness, being based upon real kindness of heart, cannot exist where +there is selfishness or brutality to warp its growth. It is founded +upon love of the neighbor, and a desire to be beloved, and to show love. +Thus, where such pure, noble feelings do not exist, the mere forms of +politeness become hypocrisy and deceit. + +Rudeness will repel, where courtesy would attract friends. + +Never by word or action notice the defects of another; be charitable, +for all need charity. Remember who said, "Let him that is without fault +cast the first stone." Remember that the laws of politeness require the +consideration of the feelings of others; the endeavor to make every one +feel at ease; and frank courtesy towards all. Never meet rudeness in +others with rudeness upon your own part; even the most brutal and +impolite will be more shamed by being met with courtesy and kindness, +than by any attempt to annoy them by insolence on your part. + +Politeness forbids any display of resentment. The polished surface +throws back the arrow. + +Remember that a favor becomes doubly valuable if granted with courtesy, +and that the pain of a refusal may be softened if the manner expresses +polite regret. + +Kindness, even to the most humble, will never lose anything by being +offered in a gentle, courteous manner, and the most common-place action +will admit of grace and ease in its execution. + +Let every action, while it is finished in strict accordance with +etiquette, be, at the same time, easy, as if dictated solely by the +heart. + +To be truly polite, remember you must be polite at _all_ times, and +under _all_ circumstances. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + + PAGE + +CHAPTER I. + + CONVERSATION 11 + +CHAPTER II. + + DRESS 21 + +CHAPTER III. + + TRAVELING 34 + +CHAPTER IV. + + HOW TO BEHAVE AT A HOTEL 40 + +CHAPTER V. + + EVENING PARTIES--Etiquette for the Hostess 44 + +CHAPTER VI. + + EVENING PARTIES--Etiquette for the Guest 54 + +CHAPTER VII. + + VISITING--Etiquette for the Hostess 60 + +CHAPTER VIII. + + VISITING--Etiquette for the Guest 66 + +CHAPTER IX. + + MORNING RECEPTIONS OR CALLS--Etiquette for the Hostess 76 + +CHAPTER X. + + MORNING RECEPTIONS OR CALLS--Etiquette for the Caller 81 + +CHAPTER XI. + + DINNER COMPANY--Etiquette for the Hostess 87 + +CHAPTER XII. + + DINNER COMPANY--Etiquette for the Guest 97 + +CHAPTER XIII. + + TABLE ETIQUETTE 105 + +CHAPTER XIV. + + CONDUCT IN THE STREET 109 + +CHAPTER XV. + + LETTER WRITING 116 + +CHAPTER XVI. + + POLITE DEPORTMENT AND GOOD HABITS 142 + +CHAPTER XVII. + + CONDUCT IN CHURCH 154 + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + BALL ROOM ETIQUETTE--For the Hostess 158 + +CHAPTER XIX. + + BALL ROOM ETIQUETTE--For the Guest 166 + +CHAPTER XX. + + PLACES OF AMUSEMENT 172 + +CHAPTER XXI. + + ACCOMPLISHMENTS 178 + +CHAPTER XXII. + + SERVANTS 232 + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + ON A YOUNG LADY'S CONDUCT WHEN CONTEMPLATING MARRIAGE 244 + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + BRIDAL ETIQUETTE 259 + +CHAPTER XXV. + + HINTS ON HEALTH 264 + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + MISCELLANEOUS 283 + +RECEIPTS. + + FOR THE COMPLEXION, &c. 303 + + + + +LADIES' BOOK OF ETIQUETTE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +CONVERSATION. + + +The art of conversation consists in the exercise of two fine qualities. +You must originate, and you must sympathize; you must possess at the +same time the habit of communicating and of listening attentively. The +union is rare but irresistible. None but an excessively ill-bred person +will allow her attention to wander from the person with whom she is +conversing; and especially she will never, while seeming to be entirely +attentive to her companion, answer a remark or question made to another +person, in another group. Unless the conversation be general among a +party of friends, confine your remarks and attention entirely to the +person with whom you are conversing. Steele says, "I would establish but +one great general rule in conversation, which is this--that people +should not talk to please themselves, but those who hear them. This +would make them consider whether what they speak be worth hearing; +whether there be either wit or sense in what they are about to say; and +whether it be adapted to the time when, the place where, and the person +to whom, it is spoken." + +Be careful in conversation to avoid topics which may be supposed to have +any direct reference to events or circumstances which may be painful for +your companion to hear discussed; you may unintentionally start a +subject which annoys or troubles the friend with whom you may be +conversing; in that case, do not stop abruptly, when you perceive that +it causes pain, and, above all, do not make the matter worse by +apologizing; turn to another subject as soon as possible, and pay no +attention to the agitation your unfortunate remark may have excited. +Many persons will, for the sake of appearing witty or smart, wound the +feelings of another deeply; avoid this; it is not only ill-bred, but +cruel. + +Remember that having all the talk sustained by one person is not +conversation; do not engross all the attention yourself, by refusing to +allow another person an opportunity to speak, and also avoid the other +extreme of total silence, or answering only in monosyllables. + +If your companion relates an incident or tells a story, be very careful +not to interrupt her by questions, even if you do not clearly understand +her; wait until she has finished her relation, and then ask any +questions you may desire. There is nothing more annoying than to be so +interrupted. I have heard a story told to an impertinent listener, which +ran in this way:-- + +"I saw a fearful sight----" + +"When?" + +"I was about to tell you; last Monday, on the train----" + +"What train?" + +"The train from B----. We were near the bridge----" + +"What bridge?" + +"I will tell you all about it, if you will only let me speak. I was +coming from B----" + +"Last Monday, did you say?" + +and so on. The story was interrupted at every sentence, and the relator +condemned as a most tedious story-teller, when, had he been permitted to +go forward, he would have made the incident interesting and short. + +Never interrupt any one who is speaking. It is very ill-bred. If you see +that a person to whom you wish to speak is being addressed by another +person, never speak until she has heard and replied; until her +conversation with that person is finished. No truly polite lady ever +breaks in upon a conversation or interrupts another speaker. + +Never, in speaking to a married lady, enquire for her _husband_, or, if +a gentleman, ask for his _wife_. The elegant way is to call the absent +party by their name; ask Mr. Smith how Mrs. Smith is, or enquire of Mrs. +Jones for Mr. Jones, but never for "your husband" or "your wife." On the +other hand, if you are married, never speak of your husband as your +"lord," "husband," or "good man," avoid, also, unless amongst relatives, +calling him by his Christian name. If you wish others to respect him, +show by speaking of him in respectful terms that you do so yourself. If +either your own husband or your friend's is in the army or navy, or can +claim the Dr., Prof., or any other prefix to his name, there is no +impropriety in speaking of him as the colonel, doctor, or whatever his +title may be. + +It is a mark of ill-breeding to use French phrases or words, unless you +are sure your companion is a French scholar, and, even then, it is best +to avoid them. Above all, do not use any foreign word or phrase, unless +you have the language perfectly at your command. I heard a lady once use +a Spanish quotation; she had mastered that one sentence alone; but a +Cuban gentleman, delighted to meet an American who could converse with +him in his own tongue, immediately addressed her in Spanish. Embarrassed +and ashamed, she was obliged to confess that her knowledge of the +language was confined to one quotation. + +Never anticipate the point or joke of any anecdote told in your +presence. If _you_ have heard the story before, it may be new to others, +and the narrator should always be allowed to finish it in his own words. +To take any sentence from the mouth of another person, before he has +time to utter it, is the height of ill-breeding. Avoid it carefully. + +Never use the phrases, "What-d-ye call it," "Thingummy," "What's his +name," or any such substitutes for a proper name or place. If you cannot +recall the names you wish to use, it is better not to tell the story or +incident connected with them. No lady of high breeding will ever use +these substitutes in conversation. + +Be careful always to speak in a distinct, clear voice; at the same time +avoid talking too loudly, there is a happy medium between mumbling and +screaming. Strive to attain it. + +Overlook the deficiencies of others when conversing with them, as they +may be the results of ignorance, and impossible to correct. Never pain +another person by correcting, before others, a word or phrase +mispronounced or ungrammatically constructed. If your intimacy will +allow it, speak of the fault upon another occasion, kindly and +privately, or let it pass. Do not be continually watching for faults, +that you may display your own superior wisdom in correcting them. Let +modesty and kind feeling govern your conversation, as other rules of +life. If, on the other hand, your companion uses words or expressions +which you cannot understand, do not affect knowledge, or be ashamed of +your ignorance, but frankly ask for an explanation. + +In conversing with professional gentlemen, never question them upon +matters connected with their employment. An author may communicate, +voluntarily, information interesting to you, upon the subject of his +works, but any questions from you would be extremely rude. If you meet a +physician who is attending a friend, you may enquire for their progress, +but do not expect him to give you a detailed account of the disease and +his manner of treating it. The same rule applies to questioning lawyers +about their clients, artists on their paintings, merchants or mechanics +of their several branches of business. Professional or business men, +when with ladies, generally wish for miscellaneous subjects of +conversation, and, as their visits are for recreation, they will feel +excessively annoyed if obliged to "talk shop." Still many men can +converse on no other subject than their every day employment. In this +case listen politely, and show your interest. You will probably gain +useful information in such conversation. + +Never question the veracity of any statement made in general +conversation. If you are certain a statement is false, and it is +injurious to another person, who may be absent, you may quietly and +courteously inform the speaker that he is mistaken, but if the falsehood +is of no consequence, let it pass. If a statement appears monstrous, but +you do not _know_ that it is false, listen, but do not question its +veracity. It may be true, though it strikes you as improbable. + +Never attempt to disparage an absent friend. It is the height of +meanness. If others admire her, and you do not, let them have their +opinion in peace; you will probably fail if you try to lower her in +their esteem, and gain for yourself the character of an ill-natured, +envious person. + +In conversing with foreigners, if they speak slightingly of the manners +of your country, do not retort rudely, or resentfully. If their views +are wrong, converse upon the subject, giving them frankly your views, +but never retaliate by telling them that some custom of their own +country is worse. A gentleman or lady of true refinement will always +give your words candid consideration, and admit that an American may +possibly know the customs of her country better than they do, and if +your opponent is not well-bred, your rudeness will not improve his +manners. Let the conversation upon national subjects be candid, and at +the same time courteous, and leave him to think that the _ladies_ in +America are well-bred, however much he may dislike some little national +peculiarity. + +Avoid, at all times, mentioning subjects or incidents that can in any +way disgust your hearers. Many persons will enter into the details of +sicknesses which should be mentioned only when absolutely necessary, or +describe the most revolting scenes before a room full of people, or even +at table. Others speak of vermin, noxious plants, or instances of +uncleanliness. All such conversation or allusion is excessively +ill-bred. It is not only annoying, but absolutely sickening to some, and +a truly lady-like person will avoid all such topics. + +I cannot too severely censure the habit of using sentences which admit +of a double meaning. It is not only ill-bred, but indelicate, and no +person of true refinement will ever do it. If you are so unfortunate as +to converse with one who uses such phrases, never by word, look, or sign +show that you understand any meaning beyond the plain, outspoken +language. + +Avoid always any discussion upon religious topics, unless you are +perfectly certain that your remarks cannot annoy or pain any one +present. If you are tete-a-tete with a friend, and such a discussion +arise, inquire your companion's church and mention your own, that you +may yourself avoid unpleasant remarks, and caution him. + +Never, when advancing an opinion, assert positively that a thing "_is +so_," but give your opinion _as_ an opinion. Say, "I think this is so," +or "these are _my_ views," but remember that your companion may be +better informed upon the subject under discussion, or, where it is a +mere matter of taste or feeling, do not expect that all the world will +feel exactly as you do. + +Never repeat to a person with whom you converse, any unpleasant speech +you may have heard concerning her. If you can give her pleasure by the +repetition of a delicate compliment, or token of approval shown by a +mutual friend, tell her the pleasant speech or incident, but do not hurt +her feelings, or involve her in a quarrel by the repetition of +ill-natured remarks. + +Amongst well-bred persons, every conversation is considered in a measure +confidential. A lady or gentleman tacitly confides in you when he (or +she) tells you an incident which may cause trouble if repeated, and you +violate a confidence as much in such a repetition, as if you were bound +over to secrecy. Remember this. + +Never criticise a companion's dress, or indeed make any remark whatever +upon it. If a near friend, you may, if sincere, admire any article, but +with a mere acquaintance let it pass unnoticed. If, however, any +accident has happened to the dress, of which she is ignorant, tell her +of it, and assist her in repairing the mischief. + +To be able to converse really well, you must read much, treasure in your +memory the pearls of what you read; you must have a quick comprehension, +observe passing events, and listen attentively whenever there is any +opportunity of acquiring knowledge. A quick tact is necessary, too, in +conversation. To converse with an entirely uneducated person upon +literature, interlarding your remarks with quotations, is ill-bred. It +places them in an awkward situation, and does not add to your +popularity. In conversing with persons of refinement and intelligence, +do not endeavor to attract their admiration by pouring forth every item +of your own information upon the subject under consideration, but listen +as well as talk, and modestly follow their lead. I do not mean, to +assent to any opinion they may advance, if you really differ in your own +tastes, but do not be _too_ ready to show your superior judgment or +information. Avoid argument; it is not conversation, and frequently +leads to ill feeling. If you are unfortunately drawn into an argument, +keep your temper under perfect control, and if you find your adversary +is getting too warm, endeavor to introduce some other topic. + +Avoid carefully any allusion to the age or personal defects of your +companion, or any one who may be in the room, and be very careful in +your language when speaking of a stranger to another person. I have +heard a lady inquire of a gentleman, "who that frightful girl in blue +could be," and receive the information that the lady in question was the +gentleman's own sister. + +Be careful, when traveling, not to wound the feelings of your friends in +another country or city, by underrating their native place, or +attempting to prove the superiority of your own home over theirs. + +Very young girls are apt to suppose, from what they observe in older +ones, that there is some particular manner to be put on, in talking to +gentlemen, and, not knowing exactly what it is, they are embarrassed and +reserved; others observe certain airs and looks, used by their elders in +this intercourse, and try to imitate them, as a necessary part of +company behaviours, and, so become affected, and lose that first of +charms, simplicity, natural grace. To such, let me say, your companions +are in error; it requires no peculiar manner, nothing to be put on, in +order to converse with gentlemen, any more than with ladies; and the +more pure and elevated your sentiments are, and the better cultivated +your intellect is, the easier will you find it to converse pleasantly +with all. One good rule can be always followed by young ladies; to +converse with a lady friend as if there were gentlemen present, and to +converse with a gentleman as if in the room with other ladies. + +Avoid affectation; it is the sure test of a deceitful, vulgar mind. The +best cure is to try to have those virtues which you would affect, and +then they will appear naturally. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +DRESS. + + +"A lady is never so well dressed as when you cannot remember what she +wears." + +No truer remark than the above was ever made. Such an effect can only be +produced where every part of the dress harmonizes entirely with the +other parts, where each color or shade suits the wearer's style +completely, and where there is perfect neatness in each detail. One +glaring color, or conspicuous article, would entirely mar the beauty of +such a dress. It is, unfortunately, too much the custom in America to +wear any article, or shape in make, that is fashionable, without any +regard to the style of the person purchasing goods. If it is the fashion +it must be worn, though it may greatly exaggerate a slight personal +defect, or conceal or mar what would otherwise be a beauty. It requires +the exercise of some judgment to decide how far an individual may follow +the dictates of fashion, in order to avoid the appearance of +eccentricity, and yet wear what is peculiarly becoming to her own face +or figure. Another fault of our fair countrywomen is their extravagance +in dress. No better advice can be given to a young person than to dress +always according to her circumstances. She will be more respected with +a simple wardrobe, if it is known either that she is dependent upon her +own exertions for support, or is saving a husband or father from +unnecessary outlay, than if she wore the most costly fabrics, and by so +doing incurred debt or burdened her relatives with heavy, unwarrantable +expense. If neatness, consistency, and good taste, preside over the +wardrobe of a lady, expensive fabrics will not be needed; for with the +simplest materials, harmony of color, accurate fitting to the figure, +and perfect neatness, she will always appear well dressed. + + +GENERAL RULES. + +NEATNESS--This is the first of all rules to be observed with regard to +dress. Perfect cleanliness and careful adjustment of each article in the +dress are indispensable in a finished toilet. Let the hair be always +smooth and becomingly arranged, each article exquisitely clean, neat +collar and sleeves, and tidy shoes and stockings, and the simplest dress +will appear well, while a torn or soiled collar, rough hair, or untidy +feet will entirely ruin the effect of the most costly and elaborate +dress. The many articles required in a lady's wardrobe make a neat +arrangement of her drawers and closets necessary, and also require care +in selecting and keeping goods in proper order. A fine collar or lace, +if tumbled or soiled, will lose its beauty when contrasted with the same +article in the coarsest material perfectly pure and smooth. Each article +of dress, when taken off, should be placed carefully and smoothly in its +proper place. Nice dresses should be hung up by a loop on the inside of +the waistband, with the skirts turned inside out, and the body turned +inside of the skirt. Cloaks should hang in smooth folds from a loop on +the inside of the neck. Shawls should be always folded in the creases in +which they were purchased. All fine articles, lace, embroidery, and +handkerchiefs, should be placed by themselves in a drawer, always laid +out smoothly, and kept from dust. Furs should be kept in a box, alone, +and in summer carefully packed, with a quantity of lump camphor to +protect from moths. The bonnet should always rest upon a stand in the +band-box, as the shape and trimming will both be injured by letting it +lie either on the face, sides, or crown. + +ADAPTIVENESS--Let each dress worn by a lady be suitable to the occasion +upon which she wears it. A toilet may be as offensive to good taste and +propriety by being too elaborate, as by being slovenly. Never wear a +dress which is out of place or out of season under the impression that +"it will do for once," or "nobody will notice it." It is in as bad taste +to receive your morning calls in an elaborate evening dress, as it would +be to attend a ball in your morning wrapper. + +HARMONY--To appear well dressed without harmony, both in color and +materials, is impossible. When arranging any dress, whether for home, +street, or evening, be careful that each color harmonizes well with the +rest, and let no one article, by its glaring costliness, make all the +rest appear mean. A costly lace worn over a thin, flimsy silk, will only +make the dress appear poorer, not, as some suppose, hide its defects. A +rich trimming looks as badly upon a cheap dress, as a mean one does +upon an expensive fabric. Observe this rule always in purchasing goods. +One costly article will entirely ruin the harmony in a dress, which, +without it, though plain and inexpensive, would be becoming and +beautiful. Do not save on the dress or cloak to buy a more elaborate +bonnet, but let the cost be well equalized and the effect will be good. +A plain merino or dark silk, with a cloth cloak, will look much better +than the most expensive velvet cloak over a cheap delaine dress. + +FASHION--Do not be too submissive to the dictates of fashion; at the +same time avoid oddity or eccentricity in your dress. There are some +persons who will follow, in defiance of taste and judgment, the fashion +to its most extreme point; this is a sure mark of vulgarity. Every new +style of dress will admit of adaptation to individual cases, thus +producing a pleasing, as well as fashionable effect. Not only good +taste, but health is often sacrificed to the silly error of dressing in +the extreme of fashion. Be careful to have your dress comfortable and +becoming, and let the prevailing mode come into secondary consideration; +avoiding, always, the other extreme of oddity or eccentricity in +costume. + +STYLE AND FORM OF DRESS--Be always careful when making up the various +parts of your wardrobe, that each article fits you accurately. Not in +the outside garments alone must this rule be followed, an ill-fitting +pair of corsets, or wrinkles in any other article of the under-clothes, +will make a dress set badly, even if it has been itself fitted with the +utmost accuracy. A stocking which is too large, will make the boot +uncomfortably tight, and too small will compress the foot, making the +shoe loose and untidy. In a dress, no outlay upon the material will +compensate for a badly fitting garment. A cheap calico made to fit the +form accurately and easily, will give the wearer a more lady-like air +than the richest silk which either wrinkles or is too tightly strained +over the figure. Collars or sleeves, pinned over or tightly strained to +meet, will entirely mar the effect of the prettiest dress. + +ECONOMY--And by economy I do not mean mere cheapness. To buy a poor, +flimsy fabric merely because the price is low, is extravagance, not +economy; still worse if you buy articles because they are offered cheap, +when you have no use for them. In purchasing goods for the wardrobe, let +each material be the best of its kind. The same amount of sewing that is +put into a good material, must be put into a poor one, and, as the +latter will very soon wash or wear out, there must be another one to +supply its place, purchased and made up, when, by buying a good article +at first, this time and labor might have been saved. A good, strong +material will be found cheapest in the end, though the actual +expenditure of money may be larger at first. + +COMFORT--Many ladies have to trace months of severe suffering to an +improper disregard of comfort, in preparing their wardrobe, or in +exposure after they are dressed. The most exquisite ball costume will +never compensate for the injury done by tight lacing, the prettiest foot +is dearly paid for by the pain a tight boot entails, and the most +graceful effects will not prevent suffering from exposure to cold. A +light ball dress and exquisite arrangement of the hair, too often make +the wearer dare the inclemency of the coldest night, by wearing a light +shawl or hood, to prevent crushing delicate lace or flowers. Make it a +fixed rule to have the head, feet, and chest well protected when going +to a party, even at the risk of a crushed flower or a stray curl. Many a +fair head has been laid in a coffin, a victim to consumption, from +rashly venturing out of a heated ball room, flushed and excited, with +only a light protection against keen night air. The excitement of the +occasion may prevent immediate discomfort in such cases, but it adds to +the subsequent danger. + +DETAILS--Be careful always that the details of your dress are perfectly +finished in every point. The small articles of a wardrobe require +constant care to keep in perfect order, yet they will wofully revenge +themselves if neglected. Let the collar, handkerchief, boots, gloves, +and belts be always whole, neat, and adapted to the dress. A lace collar +will look as badly over a chintz dress, as a linen one would with +velvet, though each may be perfect of its kind. Attention to these minor +points are sure tests of taste in a lady's dress. A shabby or ill +fitting boot or glove will ruin the most elaborate walking dress, while +one of much plainer make and coarser fabric will be becoming and +lady-like, if all the details are accurately fitted, clean, and well put +on. In arranging a dress for every occasion, be careful that there is no +missing string, hook, or button, that the folds hang well, and that +every part is even and properly adjusted. Let the skirts hang smoothly, +the outside ones being always about an inch longer than the under ones; +let the dress set smoothly, carefully hooked or buttoned; let the collar +fit neatly, and be fastened firmly and smoothly at the throat; let +shoes and stockings be whole, clean, and fit nicely; let the hair be +smooth and glossy, the skin pure, and the colors and fabric of your +dress harmonize and be suitable for the occasion, and you will always +appear both lady-like and well-dressed. + + +HOME DRESSES. + +MORNING DRESS--The most suitable dress for breakfast, is a wrapper made +to fit the figure loosely, and the material, excepting when the winter +weather requires woolen goods, should be of chintz, gingham, brilliante, +or muslin. A lady who has children, or one accustomed to perform for +herself light household duties, will soon find the advantage of wearing +materials that will wash. A large apron of domestic gingham, which can +be taken off, if the wearer is called to see unexpected visiters, will +protect the front of the dress, and save washing the wrapper too +frequently. If a lady's domestic duties require her attention for +several hours in the morning, whilst her list of acquaintances is large, +and she has frequent morning calls, it is best to dress for callers +before breakfast, and wear over this dress a loose sack and skirt of +domestic gingham. This, while protecting the dress perfectly, can be +taken off at a moment's notice if callers are announced. Married ladies +often wear a cap in the morning, and lately, young girls have adopted +the fashion. It is much better to let the hair be perfectly smooth, +requiring no cap, which is often worn to conceal the lazy, slovenly +arrangement of the hair. A few moments given to making the hair smooth +and presentable without any covering, will not be wasted. Slippers of +embroidered cloth are prettiest with a wrapper, and in summer black +morocco is the most suitable for the house in the morning. + +DRESS FOR MORNING VISITS--A lady should never receive her morning +callers in a wrapper, unless they call at an unusually early hour, or +some unexpected demand upon her time makes it impossible to change her +dress after breakfast. On the other hand, an elaborate costume before +dinner is in excessively bad taste. The dress should be made to fit the +figure neatly, finished at the throat and wrists by an embroidered +collar and cuffs, and, unless there is a necessity for it, in loss of +the hair or age, there should be no cap or head dress worn. A wrapper +made with handsome trimming, open over a pretty white skirt, may be worn +with propriety; but the simple dress worn for breakfast, or in the +exercise of domestic duties, is not suitable for the parlor when +receiving visits of ceremony in the morning. + +EVENING DRESS--The home evening dress should be varied according to +circumstances. If no visitor is expected, the dress worn in the morning +is suitable for the evening; but to receive visitors, it should be of +lighter material, and a light head-dress may be worn. For young ladies, +at home, ribbon or velvet are the most suitable materials for a +head-dress. Flowers, unless they be natural ones in summer, are in very +bad taste, excepting in cases where a party of invited guests are +expected. Dark silk in winter, and thin material in summer, make the +most suitable dresses for evening, and the reception of the +chance-guests ladies in society may usually expect. + +WALKING DRESSES--Walking dresses, to be in good taste, should be of +quiet colors, and never conspicuous. Browns, modes, and neutral tints, +with black and white, make the prettiest dresses for the street. Above +all, avoid wearing several bright colors. One may be worn with perfect +propriety to take off the sombre effect of a dress of brown or black, +but do not let it be too glaring, and wear but little of it. Let the +boots be sufficiently strong and thick to protect the feet from damp or +dust, and wear always neat, clean, nicely fitting gloves. The entire +effect of the most tasteful costume will be ruined if attention is not +paid to the details of dress. A soiled bonnet cap, untidy strings, or +torn gloves and collar will utterly spoil the prettiest costume. There +is no surer mark of vulgarity than over dressing or gay dressing in the +street. Let the materials be of the costliest kind, if you will, but do +not either wear the exaggerations of the fashion, or conspicuous colors. +Let good taste dictate the limits where fashion may rule, and let the +colors harmonize well, and be of such tints as will not attract +attention. + +FOR MORNING CALLS--The dress should be plain, and in winter furs and +dark gloves may be worn. + +FOR BRIDAL CALLS--The dress should be of light silk, the bonnet dressy, +and either a rich shawl or light cloak; no furs, and light gloves. In +summer, a lace or silk mantle and white gloves should be worn. + +SHOPPING DRESSES--Should be of such material as will bear the crush of a +crowded store without injury, and neither lace or delicate fabrics +should ever be worn. A dress of merino in winter, with a cloth cloak +and plain velvet or silk bonnet is the most suitable. In summer, a +dress and cloak of plain mode-colored Lavella cloth, or any other cool +but strong fabric, with a simply trimmed straw bonnet, is the best dress +for a shopping excursion. + +STORM DRESSES--A lady who is obliged to go out frequently in bad +weather, will find it both a convenience and economy to have a storm +dress. Both dress and cloak should be made of a woolen material, +(varying of course with the season,) which will shed water. White skirts +are entirely out of place, as, if the dress is held up, they will be in +a few moments disgracefully dirty. A woolen skirt, made quite short, to +clear the muddy streets, is the proper thing. Stout, thick-soled boots, +and gloves of either silk, beaver-cloth, or lisle thread, are the most +suitable. The bonnet should be either of straw or felt, simply trimmed; +and, above all, carry a _large_ umbrella. The little light umbrellas are +very pretty, no doubt, but to be of any real protection in a storm, the +umbrella should be large enough to protect the whole dress. + +MARKETING--Here a dress of the most inexpensive kind is the best. There +is no surer mark of vulgarity, than a costly dress in the market. A +chintz is the best skirt to wear, and in winter a dark chintz skirt put +on over a delaine dress, will protect it from baskets, and the +unavoidable soils contracted in a market, while it looks perfectly well, +and can be washed if required. + +TRAVELING--Traveling dresses should be made always of some quiet color, +perfectly plain, with a deep mantle or cloak of the same material. When +traveling with a young babe, a dress of material that will wash is the +best, but it should be dark and plain. A conspicuous traveling dress is +in very bad taste, and jewelry or ornaments of any kind are entirely out +of place. Let the dress be made of dark, plain material, with a simple +straw or felt bonnet, trimmed with the same color as the dress, and a +thick barege veil. An elastic string run through a tuck made in the +middle of the veil, will allow one half to fall over the face, while the +other half falls back, covering the bonnet, and protecting it from dust. +If white collars and sleeves are worn, they should be of linen, +perfectly plain. Strong boots and thick gloves are indispensable in +traveling, and a heavy shawl should be carried, to meet any sudden +change in the weather. Corsets and petticoats of dark linen are more +suitable than white ones, as there is so much unavoidable dust and mud +constantly meeting a traveler. + +EVENING DRESSES--Must be governed by the number of guests you may expect +to meet, and the character of the entertainment to which you are +invited. For small social companies, a dark silk in winter, and a pretty +lawn, barege, or white muslin in summer, are the most appropriate. A +light head-dress of ribbon or velvet, or a plain cap, are the most +suitable with this dress. For a larger party, low-necked, short-sleeved +silk, light colored, or any of the thin goods made expressly for evening +wear, with kid gloves, either of a color to match the dress or of white; +black lace mittens are admissible, and flowers in the hair. A ball dress +should be made of either very dressy silk, or light, thin material made +over silk. It should be trimmed with lace, flowers, or ribbon, and made +dressy. The _coiffure_ should be elaborate, and match the dress, being +either of ribbon, feather, or flowers. White kid gloves, trimmed to +match the dress, and white or black satin slippers, with silk stockings, +must be worn. + +MOURNING--There is such a variety of opinion upon the subject of +mourning, that it is extremely difficult to lay down any general rules +upon the subject. Some wear very close black for a long period, for a +distant relative; whilst others will wear dressy mourning for a short +time in a case of death in the immediate family. There is no rule either +for the depth of mourning, or the time when it may be laid aside, and I +must confine my remarks to the different degrees of mourning. + +For deep mourning, the dress should be of bombazine, Parramatta cloth, +delaine, barege, or merino, made up over black lining. The only +appropriate trimming is a deep fold, either of the same material or of +crape. The shawl or cloak must be of plain black, without border or +trimming, unless a fold of crape be put on the cloak; the bonnet should +be of crape, made perfectly plain, with crape facings, unless the +widow's cap be worn, and a deep crape veil should be thrown over both +face and bonnet. Black crape collar and sleeves, and black boots and +gloves. The next degree is to wear white collar and sleeves, a bow of +crape upon the bonnet, and plain white lace facings, leaving off the +crape veil, and substituting one of plain black net. A little later, +black silk without any gloss, trimmed with crape, may be worn, and +delaine or bombazine, with a trimming of broad, plain ribbon, or a bias +fold of silk. The next stage admits a silk bonnet trimmed with crape, +and lead color, dark purple, or white figures on the dress. From this +the mourning passes into second mourning. Here a straw bonnet, trimmed +with black ribbon or crape flowers, or a silk bonnet with black flowers +on the outside, and white ones in the face, a black silk dress, and gray +shawl or cloak, may be worn. Lead color, purple, lavender, and white, +are all admissible in second mourning, and the dress may be lightened +gradually, a white bonnet, shawl, and light purple or lavender dress, +being the dress usually worn last, before the mourning is thrown aside +entirely, and colors resumed. It is especially to be recommended to buy +always the best materials when making up mourning. Crape and woolen +goods of the finest quality are very expensive, but a cheaper article +will wear miserably; there is no greater error in economy than +purchasing cheap mourning, for no goods are so inferior, or wear out and +grow rusty so soon. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +TRAVELING. + + +There is no situation in which a lady is more exposed than when she +travels, and there is no position where a dignified, lady-like +deportment is more indispensable and more certain to command respect. If +you travel under the escort of a gentleman, give him as little trouble +as possible; at the same time, do not interfere with the arrangements he +may make for your comfort. It is best, when starting upon your journey, +to hand your escort a sufficient sum of money to cover all your +expenses, retaining your pocket book in case you should wish to use it. +Have a strong pocket made in your upper petticoat, and in that carry +your money, only reserving in your dress pocket a small sum for +incidental expenses. In your traveling satchel carry an oil skin bag, +containing your sponge, tooth and nail brushes, and some soap; have also +a calico bag, with hair brush and comb, some pins, hair pins, a small +mirror, and some towels. In this satchel carry also some crackers, or +sandwiches, if you will be long enough upon the road to need a luncheon. + +In your carpet bag, carry a large shawl, and if you will travel by +night, or stop where it will be inconvenient to open your trunks, carry +your night clothes, and what clean linen you may require, in the carpet +bag. It is best to have your name and address engraved upon the plate of +your carpet bag, and to sew a white card, with your name and the address +to which you are traveling, in clear, plain letters upon it. If you +carry a novel or any other reading, it is best to carry the book in your +satchel, and not open the carpet bag until you are ready for the night. +If you are to pass the night in the cars, carry a warm woolen or silk +hood, that you may take off your bonnet at night. No one can sleep +comfortably in a bonnet. Carry also, in this case, a large shawl to wrap +round your feet. + +One rule to be always observed in traveling is punctuality. Rise early +enough to have ample time for arranging everything needful for the day's +journey. If you sleep upon the boat, or at a hotel, always give +directions to the servant to waken you at an hour sufficiently early to +allow ample time for preparation. It is better to be all ready twenty +minutes too soon, than five minutes late, or even late enough to be +annoyed and heated by hurrying at the last moment. + +A lady will always dress plainly when traveling. A gay dress, or finery +of any sort, when in a boat, stage, or car, lays a woman open to the +most severe misconstruction. Wear always neutral tints, and have the +material made up plainly and substantially, but avoid carefully any +article of dress that is glaring or conspicuous. Above all, never wear +jewelry, (unless it be your watch,) or flowers; they are both in +excessively bad taste. A quiet, unpretending dress, and dignified +demeanor, will insure for a lady respect, though she travel alone from +Maine to Florida. + +If you are obliged to pass the night upon a steamboat secure, if +possible, a stateroom. You will find the luxury of being alone, able to +retire and rise without witnesses, fully compensates for the extra +charge. Before you retire, find out the position and number of the +stateroom occupied by your escort, in case you wish to find him during +the night. In times of terror, from accident or danger, such care will +be found invaluable. + +You may not be able to obtain a stateroom upon all occasions when +traveling, and must then sleep in the ladies' cabin. It is best, in this +case, to take off the dress only, merely loosening the stays and skirts, +and, unless you are sick, you may sit up to read until quite a late +hour. Never allow your escort to accompany you into the cabin. The +saloon is open always to both ladies and gentlemen, and the cabin is for +ladies _alone_. Many ladies are sufficiently ill-bred to ask a husband +or brother into the cabin, and keep him there talking for an hour or +two, totally overlooking the fact that by so doing she may be keeping +others, suffering, perhaps, with sickness, from removing their dresses +to lie down. Such conduct is not only excessively ill-bred, but +intensely selfish. + +There is scarcely any situation in which a lady can be placed, more +admirably adapted to test her good breeding, than in the sleeping cabin +of a steam-boat. If you are so unfortunate as to suffer from +sea-sickness, your chances for usefulness are limited, and patient +suffering your only resource. In this case, never leave home without a +straw-covered bottle of brandy, and another of camphor, in your +carpet-bag. If you are not sick, be very careful not to keep the +chambermaid from those who are suffering; should you require her +services, dismiss her as soon as possible. As acquaintances, formed +during a journey, are not recognized afterwards, unless mutually +agreeable, do not refuse either a pleasant word or any little offer of +service from your companions; and, on the other hand, be ready to aid +them, if in your power. In every case, selfishness is the root of all +ill-breeding, and it is never more conspicuously displayed than in +traveling. A courteous manner, and graceful offer of service are valued +highly when offered, and the giver loses nothing by her civility. + +When in the car if you find the exertion of talking painful, say so +frankly; your escort cannot be offended. Do not continually pester +either your companion or the conductor with questions, such as "Where +are we now?" "When shall we arrive?" If you are wearied, this impatience +will only make the journey still more tedious. Try to occupy yourself +with looking at the country through which you are passing, or with a +book. + +If you are traveling without any escort, speak to the conductor before +you start, requesting him to attend to you whilst in the car or boat +under his control. Sit quietly in the cars when they reach the depot +until the first bustle is over, and then engage a porter to procure for +you a hack, and get your baggage. If upon a boat, let one of the +servants perform this office, being careful to fee him for it. Make an +engagement with the hackman, to take you only in his hack, and enquire +his charge before starting. In this way you avoid unpleasant company +during your drive, and overcharge at the end of it. + +If you expect a friend to meet you at the end of your journey, sit near +the door of the steam-boat saloon, or in the ladies' room at the car +depot, that he may find you easily. + +There are many little civilities which a true gentleman will offer to a +lady traveling alone, which she may accept, even from an entire +stranger, with perfect propriety; but, while careful to thank him +courteously, whether you accept or decline his attentions, avoid any +advance towards acquaintanceship. If he sits near you and seems disposed +to be impertinent, or obtrusive in his attentions or conversation, lower +your veil and turn from him, either looking from the window or reading. +A dignified, modest reserve is the surest way to repel impertinence. If +you find yourself, during your journey, in any awkward or embarrassing +situation, you may, without impropriety, request the assistance of a +gentleman, even a stranger, and he will, probably, perform the service +requested, receive your thanks, and then relieve you of his presence. +Never, upon any account, or under any provocation, return rudeness by +rudeness. Nothing will rebuke incivility in another so surely as perfect +courtesy in your own manner. Many will be shamed into apology, who would +annoy you for hours, if you encouraged them by acts of rudeness on your +own part. + +In traveling alone, choose, if possible, a seat next to another lady, or +near an elderly gentleman. If your neighbor seems disposed to shorten +the time by conversing, do not be too hasty in checking him. Such +acquaintances end with the journey, and a lady can always so deport +herself that she may beguile the time pleasantly, without, in the least, +compromising her dignity. + +Any slight attention, or an apology made for crushing or incommoding +you, is best acknowledged by a courteous bow, in silence. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +HOW TO BEHAVE AT A HOTEL. + + +In America, where the mania for traveling extends through all classes, +from the highest to the lowest, a few hints upon deportment at a hotel +will not be amiss, and these hints are especially addressed to ladies +traveling alone. + +When you arrive at the hotel, enquire at once for the proprietor. Tell +him your name and address, and ask him to conduct you to a good room, +naming the length of time you purpose occupying it. You may also request +him to wait upon you to the table, and allot you a seat. As the hours +for meals, at a large hotel, are very numerous, it is best to mention +the time when you wish to breakfast, dine, or sup. If you stay more than +one day at the hotel, do not tax the proprietor with the duty of +escorting you to the table more than once. Request one of the waiters +always to meet you as you enter, and wait upon you to your seat. This +saves the embarrassment of crossing the room entirely unattended, while +it shows others that you are a resident at the house. The waiter will +then take your order for the dishes you wish. Give this order in a low +tone, and do not harass the man by contradicting yourself several +times; decide what you want before you ask for it, and then give your +order quietly but distinctly. Use, always, the butter-knife, salt-spoon, +and sugar-tongs, though you may be entirely alone in the use of them. +The attention to the small details of table etiquette is one of the +surest marks of good breeding. If any trifling civility is offered by +the gentleman beside you, or opposite to you, thank him civilly, if you +either accept or decline it. Thank the waiter for any extra attention he +may offer. + +Remember that a lady-like deportment is always modest and quiet. If you +meet a friend at table, and converse, let it be in a tone of voice +sufficiently loud for him to hear, but not loud enough to reach ears for +which the remarks are not intended. A boisterous, loud voice, loud +laughter, and bold deportment, at a hotel, are sure signs of vulgar +breeding. + +When you have finished your meal, cross the room quietly; if you go into +the parlor, do not attract attention by a hasty entrance, or forward +manner, but take the seat you may select, quietly. + +The acquaintances made in a hotel may be dropped afterwards, if +desirable, without rudeness, and a pleasant greeting to other ladies +whom you may recognize from meeting them in the entries or at table, is +courteous and well-bred; be careful, however, not to force attentions +where you see they are not agreeably received. + +A lady's dress, when alone at a hotel, should be of the most modest +kind. At breakfast let her wear a close, morning dress, and never, even +at supper, appear alone at the table with bare arms or neck. If she +comes in late from the opera or a party, in full dress, she should not +come into the supper-room, unless her escort accompanies her. A +traveling or walking-dress can be worn with perfect propriety, at any +meal at a hotel, as it is usually travelers who are the guests at the +table. + +After breakfast, pass an hour or two in the parlor, unless you are going +out, whilst the chambermaid puts your room in order. You should, before +leaving the room, lock your trunk, and be careful not to leave money or +trinkets lying about. When you go out, lock your door, and give the key +to the servant to hand to the clerk of the office, who will give it to +you when you return. You may do this, even if you leave the room in +disorder, as the chambermaids all carry duplicate keys, and can easily +enter your room in your absence to arrange it. The door should not be +left open, as dishonest persons, passing along the entry, could enter +without fear of being questioned. + +If you see that another lady, though she may be an entire stranger, is +losing her collar, or needs attention called to any disorder in her +dress, speak to her in a low tone, and offer to assist her in remedying +the difficulty. + +Be careful always in opening a door or raising a window in a public +parlor, that you are not incommoding any one else. + +Never sit down to the piano uninvited, unless you are alone in the +parlor. Do not take any book you may find in the room away from it. + +It is best always to carry writing materials with you, but if this is +not convenient, you can always obtain them at the office. + +In a strange city it is best to provide yourself with a small map and +guide book, that you may be able to find your way from the hotel to any +given point, without troubling any one for directions. + +If you wish for a carriage, ring, and let the waiter order one for you. + +When leaving a hotel, if you have been there for several days, give the +waiter at table, and the chambermaid, a fee, as your unprotected +situation will probably call for many services out of their regular +routine of duties. + +On leaving, ring, order your bill, pay it, state the time at which you +wish to leave, and the train you will take to leave the city. Request a +man to be sent, to carry your baggage to the hack; and if you require +your next meal at an unusual hour, to be ready for your journey, order +it then. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +EVENING PARTIES. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE HOSTESS. + + +The most fashionable as well as pleasant way in the present day, to +entertain guests, is to invite them to evening parties, which vary in +size from the "company," "sociable," "soiree," to the party, _par +excellence_, which is but one step from the ball. + +The entertainment upon such occasions, may vary with the taste of the +hostess, or the caprice of her guests. Some prefer dancing, some music, +some conversation. Small parties called together for dramatic or +poetical readings, are now fashionable, and very delightful. + +In writing an invitation for a small party, it is kind, as well as +polite, to specify the number of guests invited, that your friends may +dress to suit the occasion. To be either too much, or too little dressed +at such times is embarrassing. + +For large parties, the usual formula is: + + _Miss S----'s compliments to Miss G----, and requests the + pleasure of her company for Wednesday, March 8th, at 8 + o'clock._ + +Such an invitation, addressed either to an intimate friend or mere +acquaintance, will signify full dress. + +If your party is a musical soiree, or your friends meet for reading or +conversation alone, say so in your invitation, as-- + + _Miss S---- requests the pleasure of Miss G----'s company, on + Thursday evening next, at 8 o'clock, to meet the members of + the musical club, to which Miss S---- belongs_; + + or, + + _Miss S---- expects a few friends, on Monday evening next, at + 8 o'clock, to take part in some dramatic readings, and would + be happy to have Miss G---- join the party._ + +Always date your note of invitation, and put your address in one corner. + +Having dispatched these notes, the next step is to prepare to receive +your guests. If the number invited is large, and you hire waiters, give +them notice several days beforehand, and engage them to come in the +morning. Give them full directions for the supper, appoint one to open +the door, another to show the guests to the dressing rooms, and a third +to wait in the gentlemen's dressing-room, to attend to them, if their +services are required. + +If you use your own plate, glass, and china, show the waiters where to +find them, as well as the table cloths, napkins, and other things they +may require. If you hire the service from the confectioner's or +restaurateur's where you order your supper, you have only to show your +waiters where to spread supper, and tell them the hour. + +You will have to place at least four rooms at the disposal of your +guests--the supper room, and two dressing-rooms, beside the +drawing-room. + +In the morning, see that the fires in your rooms are in good order; and +in the drawing-room, it is best to have it so arranged that the heat can +be lessened towards evening, as the crowd, and dancing, will make it +excessively uncomfortable if the rooms are too warm. See that the lights +are in good order, and if you propose to have music instead of dancing, +or to use your piano for dancing music, have it put in good tune in the +morning. If you intend to dance, and do not wish to take up the carpets, +you will find it economical, as well as much pleasanter, to cover them +with coarse white muslin or linen; be sure it is fastened down smoothly, +firmly, and drawn tightly over the carpets. + +Do not remove all the chairs from the parlor; or, if this is necessary, +leave some in the hall, for those who wish to rest after dancing. + +In the dining-room, unless it will accommodate all your guests at once, +have a silk cord so fastened that, when the room is full, it can be +drawn across the door-way; those following the guests already in the +room, will then return to the parlor, and wait their turn. A still +better way, is to set the supper table twice, inviting the married and +elderly people to go into the first table, and then, after it is ready +for the second time, let the young folks go up. + +Two dressing-rooms must be ready; one for the ladies, and the other for +the gentlemen. Have both these rooms comfortably heated, and well +lighted. Nothing can be more disagreeable than cold, ill-lighted rooms +to dress in, particularly if your guests come in half-frozen by the +cold of a winter's night, or still worse, damp from a stormy one. + +Be sure that there is plenty of water, soap and towels on the washstand, +two or three brushes and combs on the bureau, two mirrors, one large and +one small, and a pin cushion, well filled with large and small pins. + +In the ladies' room, have one, or if your party is large, two women to +wait upon your guests; to remove their cloaks, overshoes, and hoods, and +assist them in smoothing their dresses or hair. After each guest removes +her shawl and hood, let one of the maids roll all the things she lays +aside into a bundle, and put it where she can easily find it. It is an +admirable plan, and prevents much confusion, to pin to each bundle, a +card, or strip of paper, (previously prepared,) with the name of the +person to whom it belongs written clearly and distinctly upon it. + +Upon the bureau in the ladies' room, have a supply of hair-pins, and a +workbox furnished with everything requisite to repair any accident that +may happen to the dress of a guest. It is well, also, to have Eau de +Cologne, hartshorn, and salts, in case of sudden faintness. + +In the gentlemen's room, place a clothes brush and boot-jack. + +It is best to send out your invitations by your own servant, or one +hired for that purpose especially. It is ill-bred to send invitations +either by the dispatch, or through the post-office; and besides being +discourteous, you risk offending your friends, as these modes of +delivery are proverbially uncertain. + +Be dressed and ready to receive your guests in good season, as some, in +their desire to be punctual, may come before the time appointed. It is +better to be ready too soon, than too late, as your guests will feel +painfully embarrassed if you are not ready to receive them. + +For the early part of the evening, take a position in your parlor, near +or opposite to the door, that each guest may find you easily. It is not +necessary to remain all the evening nailed to this one spot, but stay +near it until your guests have all or nearly all assembled. Late comers +will of course expect to find you entertaining your guests. + +As each guest or party enter the room, advance a few steps to meet them, +speaking first to the lady, or if there are several ladies, to the +eldest, then to the younger ones, and finally to the gentlemen. If the +new comers are acquainted with those already in the room, they will +leave you, after a few words of greeting, to join their friends; but if +they are strangers to the city, or making their first visit to your +house, introduce them to a friend who is well acquainted in your circle, +who will entertain them till you can again join them and introduce them +to others. + +Do not leave the room during the evening. To see a hostess fidgeting, +constantly going in and out, argues ill for her tact in arranging the +house for company. With well-trained waiters, you need give yourself no +uneasiness about the arrangements outside of the parlors. + +The perfection of good breeding in a hostess, is perfect ease of +manner; for the time she should appear to have no thought or care beyond +the pleasure of her guests. + +Have a waiter in the hall to open the front door, and another at the +head of the first flight of stairs, to point out to the ladies and +gentlemen their respective dressing-rooms. + +Never try to outshine your guests in dress. It is vulgar in the extreme. +A hostess should be dressed as simply as is consistent with the +occasion, wearing, if she will, the richest fabrics, exquisitely made, +but avoiding any display of jewels or gay colors, such as will be, +probably, more conspicuous than those worn by her guests. + +Remember, from the moment your first guest enters the parlor, you must +forget yourself entirely to make the evening pleasant for others. Your +duties will call you from one group to another, and require constant +watchfulness that no one guest is slighted. Be careful that none of the +company are left to mope alone from being unacquainted with other +guests. Introduce gentlemen to ladies, and gentlemen to gentlemen, +ladies to ladies. + +It requires much skill and tact to make a party for conversation only, +go off pleasantly. You must invite only such guests as will mutually +please, and you must be careful about introductions. If you have a +literary lion upon your list, it is well to invite other lions to meet +him or her, that the attention may not be constantly concentrated upon +one person. Where you see a couple conversing slowly and wearily, stir +them up with a few sprightly words, and introduce a new person, either +to make a trio, or, as a substitute in the duet, carrying off the other +one of the couple to find a more congenial companion elsewhere. Never +interrupt an earnest or apparently interesting conversation. Neither +party will thank you, even if you propose the most delightful +substitute. + +If your party meet for reading, have a table with the books in the +centre of the apartment, that will divide the room, those reading being +on one side, the listeners on the other. Be careful here not to endeavor +to shine above your guests, leaving to them the most prominent places, +and taking, cheerfully, a subordinate place. On the other hand, if you +are urged to display any talent you may possess in this way, remember +your only desire is to please your guests, and if they are really +desirous to listen to you, comply, gracefully and promptly, with their +wishes. + +If you have dancing, and have not engaged a band, it is best to hire a +pianist for the evening to play dancing music. You will find it +exceedingly wearisome to play yourself all the evening, and it is +ill-bred to ask any guest to play for others to dance. This victimizing +of some obliging guest is only too common, but no true lady will ever be +guilty of such rudeness. If there are several members of the family able +and willing to play, let them divide this duty amongst them, or, if you +wish to play yourself, do so. If any guest, in this case, offers to +relieve you, accept their kindness for _one_ dance only. Young people, +who enjoy dancing, but who also play well, will often stay on the +piano-stool all the evening, because their own good-nature will not +allow them to complain, and their hostess wilfully, or through +negligence, permits the tax. + +See that your guests are well provided with partners, introducing every +gentleman and lady who dances, to one who will dance well with them. Be +careful that none sit still through your negligence in providing +partners. + +Do not dance yourself, when, by so doing, you are preventing a guest +from enjoying that pleasure. If a lady is wanted to make up a set, then +dance, or if, late in the evening, you have but few lady dancers left, +but do not interfere with the pleasure in others. If invited, say that +you do not wish to take the place of a guest upon the floor, and +introduce the gentleman who invites you to some lady friend who dances. + +It is very pleasant in a dancing party to have ices _alone_, handed +round at about ten o'clock, having supper set two or three hours later. +They are very refreshing, when it would be too early to have the more +substantial supper announced. + +It is very customary now, even in large parties, to have no refreshments +but ice-cream, lemonade, and cake, or, in summer, fruit, cake, and ices. +It is less troublesome, as well as less expensive, than a hot supper, +and the custom will be a good one to adopt permanently. + +One word of warning to all hostesses. You can never know, when you place +wine or brandy before your guests, whom you may be tempting to utter +ruin. Better, far better, to have a reputation as strict, or mean, than +by your example, or the temptation you offer, to have the sin upon your +soul of having put poison before those who partook of your hospitality. +It is not necessary; hospitality and generosity do not require it, and +you will have the approval of all who truly love you for your good +qualities, if you resolutely refuse to have either wine or any other +intoxicating liquor upon your supper-table. + +If the evening of your party is stormy, let a waiter stand in the +vestibule with a _large_ umbrella, to meet the ladies at the carriage +door, and protect them whilst crossing the pavement and steps. + +When your guests take leave of you, it will be in the drawing-room, and +let that farewell be final. Do not accompany them to the dressing-room, +and never stop them in the hall for a last word. Many ladies do not like +to display their "sortie du soiree" before a crowded room, and you will +be keeping their escort waiting. Say farewell in the parlor, and do not +repeat it. + +If your party is mixed, that is, conversation, dancing, and music are +all mingled, remember it is your place to invite a guest to sing or +play, and be careful not to offend any amateur performers by forgetting +to invite them to favor the company. If they decline, never urge the +matter. If the refusal proceeds from unwillingness or inability on that +occasion, it is rude to insist; and if they refuse for the sake of being +urged, they will be justly punished by a disappointment. If you have +guests who, performing badly, will expect an invitation to play, +sacrifice their desire to the good of the others, pass them by. It is +torture to listen to bad music. + +Do not ask a guest to sing or play more than once. This is her fair +share, and you have no right to tax her too severely to entertain your +other guests. If, however, the performance is so pleasing that others +ask for a repetition, then you too may request it, thanking the +performer for the pleasure given. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +EVENING PARTIES. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE GUEST. + + +Upon receiving an invitation for an evening party, answer it +immediately, that your hostess may know for how many guests she must +provide. If, after accepting an invitation, any unforeseen event +prevents your keeping the engagement, write a second note, containing +your regrets. The usual form is:-- + + _Miss G---- accepts with pleasure Miss S----'s polite + invitation for Monday next_; + + or, + + _Miss G---- regrets that a prior engagement will prevent her + accepting Miss S----'s kind invitation for Monday evening._ + +Punctuality is a mark of politeness, if your invitation states the hour +at which your hostess will be ready to welcome you. Do not be more than +half an hour later than the time named, but if unavoidably detained, +make no apology when you meet your hostess; it will be in bad taste to +speak of your want of punctuality. + +When you arrive at your friend's house, do not stop to speak to any one +in the hall, or upon the stairs, but go immediately to the dressing +room. The gentleman who accompanies you will go to the door of the +lady's room, leave you, to remove his own hat and over-coat, and then +return to the door to wait for you. + +In the dressing-room, do not push forward to the mirror if you see that +others are before you there. Wait for your turn, then perform the +needful arrangements of your toilette quickly, and re-join your escort +as soon as possible. If you meet friends in the lady's-room, do not stop +there to chat; you keep your escort waiting, and your friends will join +you in the parlor a few moments later. + +Avoid all confidential communications or private remarks in the +dressing-room. You may be overheard, and give pain or cause annoyance by +your untimely conversation. + +When you enter the parlor, go immediately to your hostess, and speak to +her; if the gentleman attending you is a stranger to the lady of the +house, introduce him, and then join the other guests, as by delaying, to +converse too long with your hostess, you may prevent her speaking to +others who have arrived later than yourself. + +If you have no escort, you may with perfect propriety send for the +master of the house, to wait upon you from the dressing-room to the +parlor, and as soon as you have spoken to the hostess, thank your host +and release him, as the same attention may be required by others. +Again, when alone, if you meet a friend in the dressing-room, you may +ask the privilege of entering the parlor with her and her escort; or, if +she also is alone, there is no impropriety in _two_ ladies going into +the room unattended by a gentleman. + +While you maintain a cheerful deportment, avoid loud talking and +laughing, and still more carefully avoid any action or gesture that may +attract attention and make you conspicuous. + +When dressing for a party, while you show that you honor the occasion by +a tasteful dress, avoid glaring colors, or any conspicuous ornament or +style of costume. + +Avoid long tete-a-tete conversations; they are in bad taste, and to hold +confidential communication, especially with gentlemen, is still worse. + +Do not make any display of affection for even your dearest friend; +kissing in public, or embracing, are in bad taste. Walking with arms +encircling waists, or such demonstrative tokens of love, are marks of +low breeding. + +Avoid crossing the room alone, and never run, even if you feel +embarrassed, and wish to cross quickly. + +If you are a musician, and certain that you will confer pleasure by a +display of your talents, do not make a show of reluctance when invited +to play or sing. Comply gracefully, and after one piece, leave the +instrument. Be careful to avoid the appearance of wishing to be invited, +and, above all, never hint that this would be agreeable. If your hostess +has requested you to bring your notes, and you are dependent upon them, +bring them, and quietly place them on the music stand, or, still +better, send them in the afternoon. It is a better plan, if you are +called upon frequently to contribute in this way to the evening's +amusement, to learn a few pieces so as to play them perfectly well +without notes. + +Never attempt any piece before company, unless you are certain that you +can play it without mistake or hesitation. When you have finished your +song or piece, rise instantly from the piano stool, as your hostess may +wish to invite another guest to take the place. If you have a reason for +declining to play, do so decidedly when first invited, and do not change +your decision. + +If your hostess or any of the family play for the guests to dance, it is +both polite and kind to offer to relieve them; and if truly polite +themselves, they will not take advantage of the offer, to _over_ tax +your good nature. + +When others are playing or singing, listen quietly and attentively; to +laugh or talk loudly when there is music in the room, is rude, both +toward the performer and your hostess. If you are conversing at the time +the music begins, and you find that your companion is not disposed to +listen to the performer at the harp or piano, converse in a low tone, +and take a position at some distance from the instrument. + +If the rooms are not large enough for all the guests to dance at one +time, do not dance every set, even if invited. It is ill-bred and +selfish. + +When you go up to supper, do not accept anything from any gentleman but +the one who has escorted you from the parlor. If others offer you, as +they probably will, any refreshment, say that Mr. ---- (naming your +escort) has gone to get you what you desire. He has a right to be +offended, if, after telling him what you wish for, he returns to find +you already supplied. It is quite as rude to offer what he brings to +another lady. Her escort is probably on the same errand from which yours +has just returned. It may seem trivial and childish to warn a lady +against putting cakes or bon-bons in her pocket at supper, yet it is +often done by those who would deeply resent the accusation of rudeness +or meanness. It is not only ill-bred, but it gives rise, if seen, to +suspicions that you are so little accustomed to society, or so starved +at home, that you are ignorant of the forms of etiquette, or are forced +to the theft by positive hunger. + +If you are obliged to leave the company at an earlier hour than the +other guests, say so to your hostess in a low tone, when you have an +opportunity, and then stay a short time in the room, and slip out +unperceived. By a formal leave-taking, you may lead others to suppose +the hour later than it is in reality, and thus deprive your hostess of +other guests, who, but for your example, would have remained longer. +French leave is preferable to a formal leave-taking upon such occasions. + +If you remain until the usual hour for breaking up, go to your hostess +before you leave the room, express the pleasure you have enjoyed, and +bid her farewell. + +Within the next week, you should call upon your hostess, if it is the +first party you have attended at her house. If she is an intimate +friend, the call should be made within a fortnight. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +VISITING. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE HOSTESS. + + +When you write to invite a friend to visit you, name a time when it will +be convenient and agreeable for you to receive her, and if she accepts +your invitation, so arrange your duties and engagements that they will +not interfere with your devoting the principal part of your time to the +entertainment of your guest. If you have certain duties which must be +performed daily, say so frankly when she first arrives, and see that +during the time you are so occupied she has work, reading, music, or +some other employment, to pass the time away pleasantly. + +Have a room prepared especially for her use, and let her occupy it +alone. Many persons have a dislike to any one sleeping with them, and +will be kept awake by a companion in the room or bed. Above all, do not +put a child to sleep in the chamber with your guest. + +The day before your friend arrives, have her room swept, dusted, and +aired; put clean, fresh linen upon the bed, see that the curtains are in +good order, the locks in perfect repair, and the closet or wardrobe and +bureau empty for her clothes. Have upon the bureau a pin cushion well +filled, hair pins, brush and comb, and two mirrors, one large, and one +small for the hand, as she may wish to smooth her hair, without +unpacking her own toilet articles. Upon the washstand, have two pitchers +full of water, a cup, tumbler, soap-dish and soap, basin, brush-dish, +and a sponge, wash rag, and plenty of clean towels. + +Have both a feather bed and a mattress upon the bedstead, that she may +place whichever she prefers uppermost. Two sheets, a blanket, quilt, and +counterpane, should be on the bed, and there should be two extra +blankets in the room, should she require more covering in the night. + +On the mantel piece, place a few books that she may read, if she wishes, +before sleeping. Have upon the mantel piece a box of matches, and if the +room is not lighted by gas, have also a supply of candles in a box, and +a candlestick. + +If the room is not heated by a furnace, be careful that the fire is made +every morning before she rises, and keep a good supply of fuel in the +room. + +Besides the larger chairs, have a low one, to use while changing the +shoes or washing the feet. + +Upon the table, place a full supply of writing materials, as your guest +may wish to send word of her safe arrival before unpacking her own +writing-desk. Put two or three postage stamps upon this table. + +Be sure that bells, locks, hinges, and windows, are all in perfect +order. + +Before your guest arrives, go to her room. If it is in winter, have a +good fire, hot water on the washstand, and see that the windows are +tightly closed, and the room cheerful with sunshine, or plenty of candle +or gas light. If in summer, draw the curtains, bow the shutters, open +the windows, and have a fan upon the table. It is well to have a bath +ready, should your guest desire that refreshment after the dust and heat +of traveling. + +When the time arrives at which you may expect your guest, send a +carriage to the station to meet her, and, if possible, go yourself, or +send some member of the family to welcome her there. After her baggage +is on the carriage, drive immediately to the house, and be certain all +is ready there for her comfort. + +As soon as she is at your house, have her trunks carried immediately to +her own room, and lead her there yourself. Then, after warmly assuring +her how welcome she is, leave her alone to change her dress, bathe, or +lie down if she wishes. If her journey has been a long one, and it is +not the usual hour for your next meal, have a substantial repast ready +for her about half an hour after her arrival, with tea or coffee. + +If she arrives late at night, after she has removed her bonnet and +bathed her face, invite her to partake of a substantial supper, and then +pity her weariness and lead the way to her room. She may politely assert +that she can still sit up and talk, but be careful you do not keep her +up too long; and do not waken her in the morning. After the first day, +she will, of course, desire to breakfast at your usual hour, but if she +has had a long, fatiguing journey, she will be glad to sleep late the +first day. Be careful that she has a hot breakfast ready when she does +rise, and take a seat at the table to wait upon her. + +After the chambermaid has arranged the guest-chamber in the morning, go +in yourself and see that all is in order, and comfortable, and that +there is plenty of fresh water and towels, the bed properly made, and +the room dusted. Then do not go in again through the day, unless +invited. If you are constantly running in, to put a chair back, open or +shut the windows, or arrange the furniture, you will entirely destroy +the pleasantest part of your guest's visit, by reminding her that she is +not at home, and must not take liberties, even in her own room. It +looks, too, as if you were afraid to trust her, and thought she would +injure the furniture. + +If you have children, forbid them to enter the room your friend +occupies, unless she invites them to do so, or they are sent there with +a message. + +If your household duties will occupy your time for some hours in the +morning, introduce your guest to the piano, book-case, or picture-folio, +and place all at her service. When your duties are finished, either join +her in her own room, or invite her to sit with you, and work, chatting, +meanwhile, together. If you keep your own carriage, place it at her +disposal as soon as she arrives. + +If she is a stranger in the city, accompany her to the points of +interest she may wish to visit, and also offer to show her where to find +the best goods, should she wish to do any shopping. + +Enquire of your visitor if there is any particular habit she may wish to +indulge in, such as rising late, retiring early, lying down in the +daytime, or any other habit that your family do not usually follow. If +there is, arrange it so that she may enjoy her peculiarity in comfort. +If there is any dish which is distasteful to her, avoid placing it upon +the table during her visit, and if she mentions, in conversation, any +favorite dish, have it frequently placed before her. + +If she is accustomed to eat just before retiring, and your family do not +take supper, see that something is sent to her room every night. + +If your friend has intimate friends in the same city, beside yourself, +it is an act of kindly courtesy to invite them to dinner, tea, or to +pass a day, and when calls are made, and you see that it would be +pleasant, invite the caller to remain to dinner or tea. + +Never accept any invitation, either to a party, ball, or public +entertainment, that does not include your guest. In answering the +invitation give that as your reason for declining, when another note +will be sent enclosing an invitation for her. If the invitation is from +an intimate friend, say, in answering it, that your guest is with you, +and that she will accompany you. + +It is a mistaken idea to suppose that hospitality and courtesy require +_constant_ attention to a guest. There are times when she may prefer to +be alone, either to write letters, to read, or practice. Some ladies +follow a guest from one room to another, never leaving them alone for a +single instant, when they would enjoy an hour or two in the library or +at the piano, but do not like to say so. + +The best rule is to make your guest feel that she is heartily welcome, +and perfectly at home. + +When she is ready to leave you, see that her trunks are strapped in time +by the servants, have a carriage ready to take her to the station, have +the breakfast or dinner at an hour that will suit her, prepare a +luncheon for her to carry, and let some gentleman in the family escort +her to the wharf, check her trunks, and procure her tickets. + +If your guest is in mourning, decline any invitations to parties or +places of amusement whilst she is with you. Show her by such little +attentions that you sympathize in her recent affliction, and that the +pleasure of her society, and the love you bear her, make such sacrifices +of gayety trifling, compared with the sweet duty of comforting her. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +VISITING. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE GUEST. + + +As a first rule with regard to paying a visit, the best one is, never to +accept a _general_ invitation. Instances are very common where women (I +cannot say _ladies_) have, upon a slight acquaintance, and a "When you +are in C---- I should be very happy to have you visit me," actually gone +to C---- from their own home, and, with bag and baggage, quartered +themselves upon the hospitality of their newly made friend, for weeks at +a time. + +Even where there is a long standing friendship it is not well to visit +uninvited. It is impossible for you, in another city, to know exactly +when it will be convenient for your friend to have you visit her, unless +she tells you, and that will, of course, be a special invitation. + +If your friends are really desirous to have you pay them a visit, they +will name a time when it will be convenient and agreeable to have you +come, and you may accept the invitation with the certainty that you will +not incommode them. + +Self-proposed visits are still worse. You, in a manner, force an +invitation from your friend when you tell her that you can come at a +certain time, unless you have previously arranged to let her know when +you can be her guest. In that case, your own time is understood to be +the most agreeable for her. + +If, whilst traveling, you pass through a town where you have friends +whom you wish to visit, and who would be hurt if you omitted to do so, +go first to a hotel, and either call or send word that you are there. +Then, it is optional with them to extend their hospitality or not. Do +not be offended if it is not done. The love for you may be undiminished, +and the desire to entertain you very great, yet family reasons may +render such an invitation as you expect, impossible. Your friend may +have engagements or duties at the time, that would prevent her making +the visit pleasant for you, and wish to postpone the invitation until +she can entertain you as she wishes. + +To drive, trunks and all, in such a case, to your friend's house, +without a word of warning, is unkind, as well as ill-bred. You force her +to invite you to stay, when it may be inconvenient, and, even if she is +really glad to see you, and wishes you to make a prolonged visit, you +may feel certain she would have preferred to know you were coming. If +she really loves you, her natural desire would be to have everything +ready to give you a comfortable reception, and not have to leave you, +perhaps with your traveling costume on, for an hour or two, while she +prepares a room for you. It is not enough to say, at such a time, "Don't +mind me," or, "Treat me as one of the family." However much her +politeness or love may conceal annoyance, be sure, in her secret heart +she _does_ mind you, and remember you are _not_ one of her private +family. + +To take the liberty of going to the house of a mere acquaintance, for a +night or two, while traveling, without invitation, is making a +convenience of them, and wears the appearance of wishing to save the +customary hotel-bill, so, while it is extremely ill-bred and +impertinent, it is also excessively mean. + +In case of relationship, or long intimate friendship, an unexpected +visit may be pardoned and give pleasure, but it is better to avoid it, +as the pleasure will surely be increased if your relative or friend has +time to prepare for your reception as her love will prompt, and arrange +her duties and engagements to really enjoy your company. + +When you receive an invitation by letter to visit a friend, answer it +immediately, thanking her for her proffered hospitality, and say +decidedly then whether you can accept or decline. + +If you accept the invitation, state in your letter by what train, and at +what hour you will arrive, that she may meet you, and let nothing but +positive necessity keep you from being punctually at the time and place +appointed. To linger by the way, for mere pleasure, and make her come +several times to meet you, is unkind, as well as ill-bred. If you are +unavoidably detained, write to her, state the reason that will prevent +your keeping the appointment, and name another time when you can come. + +It is well in answering a letter of invitation, to state the limits of +your visit, and then to keep them. If she is unwilling to let you go, +and you are tempted to stay, that very fact promises well for the +pleasure of a second visit. It is better to leave while all will regret +you, than to linger on until you have worn out your welcome. + +Inquire, as soon as possible after your arrival, what are the regular +habits of the family; the hours for rising, for meals, and for retiring, +and then be punctual in your attendance. Many ladies are very +ceremonious about waiting for a guest, and by delay in your room, or +inattention to the time, when you are out, you will keep the whole +family waiting. + +If you do not wake early enough for the usual breakfast hour, request +the chambermaid to knock at your door in time for you to be ready to go +down with the family. Before you leave your room in the morning, take +the clothes off your bed, throw the upper bed over the foot-board, and +then open all the windows (unless it storms), that room and bed may be +thoroughly aired before you sit there again. + +After breakfast, ask your hostess if you can be of any assistance to her +in the household duties. If she declines your services, do not follow +her from room to room whilst she is thus engaged, but take your work, +books, or music to the sitting room or parlor, until your own room is +ready for you. By thus proving that you can occupy yourself pleasantly, +while she is away, you make it less annoying to her to feel the +obligation to leave you. + +As soon as you see that she is ready to sew and chat, leave your book, +or, if in your own room, come to the sitting room, where she is, and +work with her. It is polite and kind, if you see that she has a large +supply of family sewing, to offer to assist her, but if she positively +declines your aid, then have some work of your own on hand, that you may +sew with her. Many pleasant mornings may be spent while visiting, by one +lady reading aloud whilst the other sews, alternating the work. + +It is a pretty compliment to repay the hospitality of your hostess, by +working whilst with her upon some piece of fancy work, a chair cover, +sofa cushion, or pair of ottomans, presenting them to her when finished, +as a keepsake. They will be duly appreciated, and remind her constantly +of the pleasures of your visit. + +If you pass the morning out of the house, remember your time is hers, +and have no engagement to interfere with the plans she has laid for +entertaining you. Observe this rule during your whole visit, and do not +act independent of her plans. By constantly forming engagements without +her knowledge, going out without her, or staying in when she has made +some excursion or party for your pleasure, you insult her, by intimating +that her house is no more to you than a hotel, to sleep and eat in, +while your pleasures lie elsewhere. + +After dinner, retire for an hour to your own room, that your hostess may +lie down if she is accustomed to do so. If the hours kept are later than +you have been accustomed to, or if the gayety of the family keeps you +out at party or opera, it is best to sleep after dinner, even if you do +not always do it. To give signs of weariness in the evening will be +excessively rude, implying want of enjoyment, and making your hostess +feel hurt and annoyed. + +If you have shopping to do, find out where the best stores are, and then +go to them alone, unless your hostess will accompany you upon similar +business of her own. Do not tax her good nature to go, merely for the +sake of aiding you as guide. If one of the children in the family is +familiar with the stores and streets, ask her to accompany you, and be +careful to acknowledge the kindness by buying something especially for +the child whilst she is out with you, if it is only some cakes or +bonbons. Choose an hour when you are certain your hostess has made no +other engagement for you, or while she is busy in her domestic duties, +for these shopping excursions. Offer, when you are going, to attend to +any shopping she may want, and ask if there is any commission you can +execute for her while you are out. + +While on a visit to one friend, do not accept too many invitations from +others, and avoid spending too much time in paying calls where your +hostess is not acquainted. You owe the greater portion of your time and +society to the lady whose hospitality you are accepting, and it is best +to decline invitations from other houses, unless they inclose one for +your hostess also. + +Avoid paying any visits in a family not upon good terms with your +hostess. If such a family are very dear friends of your own, or you can +claim an acquaintance, pleasant upon both sides, with them, write, and +state candidly the reason why you cannot visit them, and they will +appreciate your delicacy. + +If, while on a visit to one friend, you receive an invitation to spend +some time with another friend in the same place, accept it for the +period which you have named as the termination of your first visit. You +insult your hostess by shortening your visit to her to accept another +invitation, and quite as much of an insult is it, to take the time from +the first visit to go to pay another, and then return to your first +hostess, unless such an arrangement has been made immediately upon your +arrival. + +Never invite any friend who may call upon you to stay to dinner or tea; +you will be taking a most unwarrantable liberty in so doing. This is the +right of your hostess, and if, by her silence, she tacitly declines +extending this courtesy, you will be guilty of impertinence in usurping +her privilege. + +Never take any one who calls upon you into any room but the parlor, +unless invited to do so by your hostess. You have, of course, the +_entree_ of other rooms, but you have no right to extend this privilege +to others. + +If you have many gentlemen visiters, check too frequent calls, and make +no appointments with them. If they show you any such attention as to +offer to drive you to places of interest, or visit with you picture +galleries or public places, always consult your hostess before accepting +such civilities, and decline them if she has made other engagements for +you. If you receive an invitation to visit any place of public +amusement, decline it, unless one of the family with whom you are +staying is also invited. In that case you may accept. If the gentleman +who invites you is a stranger to the family, introduce him to your +hostess, or mention her name in conversation. He will then, if he +really desires you to accept his proffered attention, include her in the +invitation. + +When visiting in a family where the members are in mourning, decline all +invitations to parties or places of public amusement. It is an insult to +them to leave them to join in pleasure from which their recent +affliction excludes them. Your visit at such a time will be prompted by +sympathy in their trouble, and for the time it is thoughtful and +delicate to make their sorrows yours. + +If sudden sickness or family trouble come to your friend whilst you are +with her, _unless you can really be useful_, shorten your visit. In time +of trouble families generally like to be alone, all in all to each +other; and a visitor is felt a constant restraint. + +If death comes while you are with your friend, endeavor to take from her +as much of the care as you can, a really sympathizing friend is an +inexpressible comfort at such a time, as the trying details which must +be taken in charge by some one, will be less trying to her than to a +member of the family. Do the necessary shopping for your friend, and +relieve her of as much family care as you can. Let her feel that you are +really glad that you are near her in her affliction, and repay the +hospitality she offered in her season of joy by showing her that her +sorrow makes her still more dear, and that, while you can enjoy the +gayety of her house, you will not flee from its mourning. When your +presence can be of no further service, then leave her. + +Put out your washing and ironing when on a visit. It is annoying and +ill-bred to throw your soiled clothes into the family wash. + +Take with you, from home, all the writing and sewing materials you may +require while paying your visit. It is annoying to be constantly +requested by a visitor to lend her scissors, pins, needles, or paper; no +lady should be without her own portfolio and work-box. + +Be very careful not to injure any article of furniture in your sleeping +apartment, and if, unfortunately, anything suffers from your +carelessness, have the accident repaired, or the article replaced, at +your own expense. + +When your visit is over, give a present to each of the servants, varying +its value, according to the length of your visit or the services you may +have required. You will add to the pleasure by presenting such gifts +yourself, with a few pleasant words. + +Never compare the house you may be visiting with your own, or any other +you may visit. Avoid also speaking of any house where you may have been +a guest in terms of overpraise, giving glowing pictures of its splendor. +Your hostess may imagine you are drawing comparisons unfavorable to your +present residence. Also avoid speaking unfavorably of any former visit, +as your hostess will naturally conclude that her turn for censure will +come as soon as your visit is over. + +If any family secret comes to your knowledge while you are on a visit in +that family, remember the hospitality extended to you binds you to the +most inviolable secrecy. It is mean, contemptible, rude, and ill-bred to +make your entertainers regret their hospitality by betraying any such +confidence; for it is as sacred a confidence as if you were bound over +to silence in the most solemn manner. + +After paying a visit, you should write to your hostess as soon as you +reach home again; thank her in this letter for her hospitality, speak +warmly of the enjoyment you have had in your recent visit, and mention +by name every member of the family, desiring to be remembered to all. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +MORNING RECEPTIONS OR CALLS. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE HOSTESS. + + +If your circle of visiting acquaintance is very large, while at the same +time your time is fully occupied, or your home duties make it +inconvenient to dress every morning to receive visitors, it is a good +plan to set aside one morning in the week for a reception day. + +Upon your own visiting cards, below the name, put the day when it will +be proper to return the visit, thus: + + MRS. JAMES HUNTER. + + AT HOME WEDNESDAYS. + + _No. 1718 C---- st._ + +Your friends will, unless there is some especial reason for a call in +the interval, pay their visit upon the day named. + +Let nothing, but the most imperative duty, call you out upon your +reception day. Your callers are, in a measure, invited guests, and it +will be an insulting mark of rudeness to be out when they call. Neither +can you be excused, except in case of sickness. + +Having appointed the day when you will be at home to see your friends, +you must, for that day, prepare to give your time wholly to them. The +usual hours for morning receptions are from twelve to three, and you +should be dressed, and ready for callers, at least half an hour before +that time. + +To come in, flushed from a hurried toilette, to meet your first callers, +is unbecoming as well as rude. + +Your dress should be handsome, but not showy. A silk or cashmere +wrapper, richly trimmed, over an embroidered skirt, with a pretty cap, +or the hair neatly arranged without head-dress, is a becoming and +appropriate dress. Still better is a rich but plain silk, made high in +the neck, with long sleeves. Wear a handsomely embroidered, or lace +collar, and sleeves, and a rather dressy cap, or, still better, the hair +alone, prettily arranged. + +As each visitor arrives, rise, and advance part of the way to meet her. +If gentlemen, rise, but do not advance. + +It is not customary now to introduce callers at these morning +receptions, though you can do so with perfect propriety where you know +such an introduction will be agreeable to both parties. + +In introducing a gentleman to a lady, address her first, as-- + +"Miss Jones, permit me to introduce Mr. Lee;" and, when introducing a +young lady to a matron, you introduce the younger one to the elder, as-- + +"Mrs. Green, allow me to introduce to you my friend, Miss Brown." + +In introducing strangers in the city it is well to name the place of +their residence, as--Mr. James of Germany, or, Mr. Brown of New York, +or, if they have recently returned from abroad, it is well to say so, +as, Mr. Lee, lately from India; this is useful in starting conversation. + +Be careful, when introducing your friends, to pronounce the name of each +one clearly and distinctly, that there may be no mistake or necessity +for repetition. + +It is a good plan, if your receptions are usually largely attended, to +have books and pictures on the centre table, and scattered about your +parlors. You must, of course, converse with each caller, but many will +remain in the room for a long time, and these trifles are excellent +pastime, and serve as subjects for conversation. + +It requires much tact to know when to introduce friends, when to take +refuge under the shield fashion offers, and not make them acquainted +with each other. It is a positive cruelty to force a talented, witty +person, to converse with one who is ignorant and dull, as they will, of +course, be obliged to do, if introduced. + +A well-bred lady, who is receiving several visitors at a time, pays +equal attention to all, and attempts, as much as possible, to generalize +the conversation, turning to all in succession. The last arrival, +however, receives a little more attention at first, than the others. + +If it is not agreeable to you to set aside a day for the especial +reception of callers, and you have a large circle of acquaintances, be +ready to receive them each day that you are at home. + +If you are engaged, let the servant say so when she opens the door, and +do not send down that message after your friend has been admitted. If +she is told when she arrives that you are engaged, she will understand +that you are denied to _all_ callers, but if that message comes after +she has sent up her card, she may draw the inference that you will not +see _her_, though you may see other friends. + +Never keep a caller waiting whilst you make an elaborate toilette. If +you are not ready for visitors, it is best to enter the parlor in your +wrapper, apologizing for it, than to keep your friend waiting whilst you +change your dress. + +If a stranger calls, bringing a letter of introduction, and sends the +letter, you may read it before going down stairs, but if they wait till +you are in the parlor before presenting the letter, merely glance at the +signature and at the name of your caller; do not read the letter +through, unless it is very short, or you are requested by the bearer to +do so. + +If you have a friend staying with you, invite her to join you in the +parlor when you have callers, and introduce her to your friends. + +If you wish to invite a caller to stay to luncheon or dinner, give the +invitation as soon as you have exchanged greetings, not after she has +been seated for some time. In the latter case it appears like an after +thought, not, as in the former, as if from a real desire to have the +pleasure of her company. + +If you have but one caller at a time, rise when she does, and accompany +her to the vestibule; but, if there are several in the room, rise when +each one does, but only accompany them to the parlor door; there take +leave of them, and return to those who still remain seated. + +If, after affliction, your friends call before you are able to see them, +do not fear to give offence by declining to receive them. They will +respect your sorrow, and the call is made more to show their sympathy +than from a desire to converse with you. + +Visits of condolence, paid between the death of one of your family and +the day of the funeral, you may always excuse yourself from, with +perfect propriety. They are made in kindness, and show interest, but if +you decline seeing such callers, there is no offence given. + +In parting from a gentleman caller, rise when he does, and remain +standing until he leaves the room, but do not go towards the door. + +When a gentleman calls in the morning he will not remove his outside +coat, and will hold his hat in his hand. Never offer to take the latter, +and do not invite him to remove his coat. Take no notice of either one +or the other. + +If strangers in the city call upon you, enquire at what hotel they are +staying, and how long they will be there, that you may return their call +before they leave town. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +MORNING RECEPTIONS OR CALLS. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE CALLER. + + +The usual hours for paying morning calls are between eleven and two, or +twelve and three, and all calls of ceremony should be made between these +hours. + +Never, in paying a ceremonious call, stay more than twenty minutes, or +less than ten. If your hostess has several other visitors at the same +time that you are in her parlor, make your visit short, that she may +have more attention to bestow upon others. + +After you have received an invitation to a party, call within a week or +fortnight after the evening, whether you have accepted or declined the +invitation. If you have declined on account of mourning, the excuse +extends also to the call. + +When the servant answers your ring, hand in your card. If your friend is +out or engaged, leave the card, and if she is in, send it up. Never call +without cards. You may offend your friend, as she may never hear of your +call, if she is out at the time, and you trust to the memory of the +servant. + +If your friend is at home, after sending your card up to her by the +servant, go into the parlor to wait for her. Sit down quietly, and do +not leave your seat until you rise to meet her as she enters the room. +To walk about the parlor, examining the ornaments and pictures, is +ill-bred. It is still more unlady-like to sit down and turn over to read +the cards in her card basket. If she keeps you waiting for a long time, +you may take a book from the centre-table to pass away the interval. + +Never, while waiting in a friend's parlor, go to the piano and play till +she comes. This is a breach of good-breeding often committed, and +nothing can be more ill-bred. You may be disturbing an invalid unawares, +or you may prevent your friend, if she has children, from coming down +stairs at all, by waking the baby. + +If you are a stranger in the city, and bring a letter of introduction to +your hostess, send this letter up stairs with your card, that she may +read it, and know how to welcome you when she comes down stairs. In this +case, write upon the card the name of the hotel at which you are +staying, and mention in the course of conversation, how long you will be +in the city. + +If you have a visitor, and desire to introduce her to your friends, you +may invite her to accompany you when paying calls. + +In making a call for condolence, it is sufficient to leave a card with +your enquiries for the health of your friend, and offers of service. The +same if calling upon invalids, if they are too ill to see you. + +In visits of congratulation, go in, and be hearty in your expressions of +interest and sympathy. Pay visits, both of condolence and +congratulation, within a week after the event which calls for them +occurs. + +It is proper, when you have already made your call of the usual length, +and another caller is announced, to rise and leave, not immediately, as +if you shunned the new arrival, but after a moment or two. Never out-sit +two or three parties of visitors, unless you have private business with +your hostess which cannot be postponed. Many denounce the system of +morning calls as silly, frivolous, and a waste of time. They are wrong. +It may be carried to an excess, and so admit of these objections, but in +moderation the custom is a good and pleasant one. You have then an +opportunity of making friends of mere acquaintances, and you can, in a +pleasant chat with a friend at home, have more real enjoyment in her +society than in a dozen meetings in large companies, with all the +formality and restraint of a party thrown around you. There are many +subjects of conversation which are pleasant in a parlor, tete-a-tete +with a friend, which you would not care to discuss in a crowded saloon, +or in the street. Personal inquiries, private affairs can be cosily +chatted over. + +In paying your visits of condolence, show, by your own quiet gravity, +that you sympathize in the recent affliction of your friend. Though you +may endeavor to comfort and cheer her, you must avoid a gay or careless +air, as it will be an insult at such a time. Avoid any allusion to the +past that may be trying for her to hear or answer, yet do not ignore the +subject entirely, as that appears like a want of interest in it. Though +you may feel happy, avoid parading your own joyousness at such a time; +whatever your own feeling may be, respect the sorrow of another. + +Never sit gazing curiously around the room when paying a call, as if +taking a mental inventory of the furniture. It is excessively rude. It +is still worse to appear to notice any disorder or irregularity that may +occur. + +If, while paying a call, you perceive that any unforeseen matter in the +family, calls for the attention of the lady of the house, leave +instantly, no matter how short your call has been. Your friend may not +appear to notice the screams of a child, a noise in the kitchen, or the +cry from the nursery that the fire board has caught fire, but you may be +sure she does hear it, and though too well-bred to speak of it, will +heartily rejoice to say good-bye. + +Do not take a child with you to pay calls, until it is old enough to +behave quietly and with propriety. To have a troublesome child +constantly touching the parlor ornaments, balancing itself on the back +of a chair, leaning from a window, or performing any of the thousand +tricks in which children excel, is an annoyance, both to yourself and +your hostess. + +Make no remark upon the temperature of the room, or its arrangement, +when you enter it. Never open or shut a window or door without asking +permission, and unless really suffering from excessive heat or cold, +refrain from asking leave to take this liberty. + +If you are invited to go up stairs to your friend's private apartment, +you will, of course, accept the invitation, but never go up stairs +uninvited. When you reach her door, if the servant has not preceded and +announced you, knock, and await her invitation to enter. Then, once in, +take no notice of the room, but go instantly to your friend. If she is +sewing, do not speak of the nature of her work, but request her to +continue, as if you were not present. + +In cases of long standing friendship, you will not, of course, stand +upon the ceremony of waiting for each and every one of your calls to be +returned before paying another, but be careful that you are not too +lavish of your visits. The most cordial welcome may be worn threadbare, +if it is called into use _too_ often. + +If you are visiting an invalid, or one confined by physical infirmity to +one apartment, while you are cheerful and ready to impart all the news +that will interest them, do not, by too glowing descriptions of out-door +pleasures, make them feel more keenly their own deprivations. It is +well, when making such calls, to converse upon literature, or such +general subjects as will not remind them of their misfortune. + +In cases where, from long illness or other infirmity, a gentleman friend +is confined entirely to his room, you may, with perfect propriety, call +upon him. It is both polite and kind to do so, as otherwise he would be +deprived entirely of the society of his lady friends. Many thus +unfortunately situated, from study and reading while so shut out from +the world, become the most delightful companions. + +If, when you make a call, you unfortunately intrude upon an early dinner +hour, do not go in, but leave your card, and say that you will call +again. + +If you call upon two ladies who are boarding at the same house, do not +send up your card to both at the same time. If one is out, send a card +to her room, and then send up for the other. If the first one is in, +wait till she comes down, and then chat as long as a call usually lasts. +When you rise as if to take leave, accompany your friend to the parlor +door, then tell her that you are going to send up for your other friend. +She will bid you good-morning, and go to her own room; ring the bell +after she leaves you, and send your card by the waiter to your other +friend. + +In calling at a hotel, enter by the ladies' door, and send your card to +the room of your friend by the waiter. It is well, if you are calling +upon an entire stranger, to choose a seat, and tell the waiter to say to +the lady exactly where she will find you. She will probably enter with +your card in her hand; then rise, greet her by name, and introduce +yourself. If you speak to another stranger upon the same errand as the +one you expect, the error will be instantly perceived by the difference +in name. If a stranger, bringing a letter of introduction, sends the +letter with her card, instead of calling, courtesy requires you to make +the first call, immediately; the same day that you receive the letter, +if possible, if not, the day after. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +DINNER COMPANY. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE HOSTESS. + + +In issuing invitations for a large dinner party, the usual form is-- + + _Mr. and Mrs. G---- request the favor of Mr. and Mrs. L----'s + company to dinner, on Wednesday, March 8th, at ---- o'clock._ + +If your husband is giving a party to gentlemen only, he will have a card +printed or written for the occasion, but your duties as hostess, if he +wishes you to preside, will still be as arduous as if your own friends +were included in the invitation. + +The directions given in the chapter on "Evening parties" for the +arrangement of the parlor and the dressing-rooms, will apply here +equally well, but the dining-room (in this case the centre of +attraction) requires still more careful attention. Any fault here will +mar your own comfort and the pleasure of your guests, and must be +carefully avoided. + +Send out your invitations by a servant, or man hired for the purpose; +do not trust them to despatch or penny post. + +Be careful in selecting the guests for a dinner party. Remember that +conversation will be the sole entertainment for several hours, and if +your guests are not well chosen, your dinner, no matter how perfect or +costly the viands, will prove a failure. The most agreeable dinners are +those whose numbers will allow all the guests to join in a common +conversation, and where the host has spirit and intelligence to take the +lead, and start a new subject when the interest in the old one begins to +flag. Dinners where the guests depend entirely upon the person next them +for conversation, are apt to be stupid, as it requires marvelous tact to +pair off all the couples, so that every one will be entertaining in +tete-a-tete conversation. + +To give a good dinner, your means, room, and establishment must all be +taken into consideration when you are preparing for a dinner company. If +you invite a large number, you must increase your establishment for the +occasion, as to sit down to a dinner badly served, with a scarcity of +waiters, is tiresome, and shows little tact or grace on the part of the +hostess. + +One cook cannot prepare dinner properly for more than ten persons, and +three waiters will find ample employment in waiting upon the same +number. More than this number will require a table too large for +general, easy conversation, and throw your company into couples or +trios, for entertainment. + +Have your table spread in a room that will accommodate all the guests +comfortably, at the same time avoid putting a small social party in a +large room, where they will appear lost in the space around them. Let +the room be comfortably warmed, and if your dinner is late, have the +apartments well lighted. If you sit down by daylight, but will remain in +the room until after dark, have the shutters closed and the lights lit, +before the dinner is announced, as nothing can be more awkward than to +do this in the middle of the meal. + +The shape of a table is a point of more importance than some people +think. If you wish your dinner to be social--not a mere collection of +tete-a-tetes--the table should be of a shape which will make it easy for +each guest to address any one at the table. The long parallelogram, with +the host at one end and the hostess at the other, is stiff, too broad, +too long, and isolates the givers of the feast from the guests. + +The round table, if large enough to accommodate many guests, has too +large a diameter each way for easy conversation. The best table is the +oval, and the host and hostess should sit in the middle of each side, +facing each other. + +The dining room, even in the heat of summer, should be carpeted, to +deaden the noise of the servants' feet. The chairs should be easy, +without arms, and with tall, slanting backs. It adds much to the +comfort, if each person is provided with a foot-stool. + +You must have, besides the waiters, one servant to carve, and he must be +an adept. No dish should be carved upon the table, and that no guest +shall wait too long for his meat, you must engage a rapid and dexterous +carver. + +For a party of ten, two waiters, and the carver, are amply sufficient. +If you have too many servants, they will only interfere with each other, +and stand staring at the guests. Give your orders before dinner, and +through the meal never speak to the servants. Your whole attention must +be given to the guests. Even if you see that matters are going wrong, do +not let your annoyance appear, but gracefully ignore the painful facts. +Let each servant have his regular position at the table. One should take +the guests at the right of the hostess, and the left of the host; the +other the guests on the other side. They should wear light, noiseless +shoes, and white gloves, and each one carry a folded napkin over his +right arm. + +The main point in the arrangement of the table itself, is to secure +beauty, without interfering with conversation. The table cover and +napkins must be of snowy damask, the glass clear as crystal, and taste +must preside over each detail. Let nothing high be placed on the table, +that will effectually separate the guests from each other. There should +be, first, a handsome centre piece, and this may be of glass, silver, or +china, and not too high or large, and must be elegant as a work of art, +or it is better omitted altogether. Preserve or fruit stands, tastefully +decorated, with the fruit on fresh, green leaves, and flowers mingled +with them, form exquisite centre pieces. A pyramid of flowers, or tasty +vase or basket, forms, too, a beautiful ornament for the centre of the +table. In addition to this, the French scatter vases of flowers all over +the table, at the corners and in the centre. Some place a small, +fragrant bouquet before the plate of each guest. Nothing can be more +beautiful than this arrangement. Glasses of celery, dishes of clear, +transparent jellies or preserves, exquisite little glass plates of +pickles should stand in order on the table. + +Place before each guest, the plate, knife, fork, spoon, four +wine-glasses of various sizes, the goblet for water, napkin, small salt +cellar, salt spoon, and roll of bread. Place none of the meats or +vegetables upon the large table. These should all be served at a +side-table, each guest selecting his own, to be handed by the servants. +The first course is soup. As this is not meant to destroy the appetite +for other viands, it should be light, not too rich or thick. Let the +servant hand one ladlefull to each person. If you have more than one +kind, he must first inquire which each guest prefers. + +If you have wines, let them be handed round after the soup. + +Next comes the fish. If you have large fish, let a slice, cut smoothly, +not made into a hash by awkward carving, be placed upon the plate of the +guest, with a slice of egg, and drawn butter. If the fish are small, one +should be placed upon each plate. + +Then come the patties of oysters, minced veal, or lobster; or, instead +of these, you may have poultry or game. + +Next the roast. With the meats have vegetables served on a separate +plate, that the guest may take as much as he wishes with meat. You will, +of course, have a variety of vegetables, but scarcely any guest will +choose more than two. + +The pastry and puddings come next in order, and these, too, are better +served from a side table. Between the pastry and the dessert, have +salad and cheese placed before each guest. + +If you eat dessert in the same room that you dine in, it should be +placed upon the table (with the exception of the ices) before the guests +are seated, and this comes after the pastry has been discussed. It +should consist of fruit and ices. + +A pleasanter and more elegant way, is to have the fruit and ices spread +in a separate room, and leave the dining room after the pastry has been +eaten. The change of position, the absence of the meat flavor in the +atmosphere, make the dessert much more delightful than if it is eaten in +the same room as the dinner. In summer especially, the change to a cool, +fresh room, where the ices and fruits are tastefully spread, and flowers +are scattered profusely about the room, delights every sense. + +Coffee follows the dessert, and when this enters, if your guests are +gentlemen only, your duty is at an end. You may then rise, leave the +room, and need not re-appear. If you have lady guests, you give the +signal for rising after coffee, and lead the way to the parlor, where, +in a few moments, the gentlemen will again join you. + +Suppose your guests invited, servants instructed, every arrangement +made, and the important day arrived. The next point to consider is the +reception of your guests. Be dressed in good season, as many seem to +consider an invitation to dinner as one to pass the day, and come early. +Take a position in your drawing-room, where each guest will find you +easily, and remain near it, until every guest has arrived. As each one +enters, advance to meet him, and extend your hand. + +Have plenty of chairs ready in the drawing-room, as an invitation to +dinner by no means argues a "stand up" party. As you have already +arranged every detail, your duty as hostess consists in receiving your +guests gracefully, conversing and looking as charmingly as possible. +Flowers in the drawing-room are as great a proof of taste as in the +dining room. + +As the time just before dinner is very apt to be tiresome, you should +bring forward all the armor against stupidity that you possess. Display +upon tables arranged conveniently about the room, curiosities, handsome +books, photographs, engravings, stereoscopes, medallions, any works of +art you may own, and have the ottomans, sofas, and chairs so placed that +your guests can move easily about the room, or rooms. + +The severest test of good breeding in a lady, is in the position of +hostess, receiving dinner guests. Your guests may arrive all at once, +yet you must make each one feel that he or she is the object of your +individual attention, and none must be hurt by neglect. They may arrive +very early, yet your duty is to make the time fly until dinner is +announced. They may come late, and risk the ruin of your choicest +dishes, yet you must not, upon pain of a breach of etiquette, show the +least annoyance. If you know that the whole kitchen is in arms at the +delay, you must conceal the anguish, as the Spartan boy did his pangs, +to turn a cheerful, smiling face upon the tardy guests. + +When dinner is announced, you will lead the way to the dining-room upon +the arm of one of your gentlemen guests, having paired off the company +in couples. The host comes in last with a lady upon his arm. + +You may indicate to each couple, as they enter the dining-room, the +seats they are to occupy, standing until all are seated, or you may +allow them to choose their own places. The English fashion of placing a +card upon each plate with the name of the person to take that seat upon +it, is a good one. It enables the hostess to place those whom she is +certain will be mutually entertaining, next each other. Place the +gentleman who escorts you from the parlor at your right hand. + +Having once taken your seat at table, you have nothing to do with the +dinner but to partake of it. Not a word, or even a glance, will a +well-bred hostess bestow upon the servants, nor will she speak to the +guests of the dishes. Their choice rests between themselves and the +waiters, and you must take no notice of what they eat, how much, or how +little. Nay, should they partake of one dish only, you must ignore the +fact. + +The greatest tact is displayed where the hostess makes each guest feel +perfectly at ease. She will aid her husband both in leading and +supporting the conversation, and will see that no guest is left in +silence from want of attention. Whilst she ignores every breach of +etiquette her guests may commit, she must carefully observe every rule +herself, and this she must do in an easy, natural manner, avoiding every +appearance of restraint. Her deportment, she may be sure, is secretly +watched and criticised by each guest, yet she must appear utterly +unconscious that she is occupying any conspicuous position. + +To watch the servants, or appear uneasy, lest something should go wrong, +is excessively ill-bred, and if any accident does occur, you only make +it worse by noticing it. To reprove or speak sharply to a servant before +your guests, manifests a shocking want of good breeding. + +The rules given above are only applicable to large dinner parties, and +where the guests are few, and the host himself carves, these rules will +not apply. In this case, as you will only require the services of your +own household domestics, you must, of course, attend personally to the +wants of your guests. + +Dinner not being served from a side table, you must, while putting +tasteful ornaments upon it, be careful not to crowd them, and leave room +for the substantial dishes. + +You must watch the plate of each guest, to see that it is well provided, +and you will invite each one to partake of the various dishes. + +Have a servant to pass the plates from you to each guest, and from the +host to you, after he has put the meat upon them, that you may add gravy +and vegetables before they are set before your visitors. + +At these smaller dinner companies, avoid apologizing for anything, +either in the viands or the arrangement of them. You have provided the +best your purse will allow, prepared as faultlessly as possible; you +will only gain credit for mock modesty if you apologize for a +well-prepared, well-spread dinner, and if there are faults they will +only be made more conspicuous if attention is drawn to them by an +apology. + +Ease of manner, quiet dignity, cheerful, intelligent conversation, and +gentle, lady-like deportment, never appear more charming than when they +adorn a lady at the head of her own table. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +DINNER COMPANY. + +ETIQUETTE FOR THE GUEST. + + +When you receive an invitation to join a dinner-party, answer it +immediately, as, by leaving your hostess in doubt whether you intend to +accept or decline her hospitality, you make it impossible for her to +decide how many she must prepare for. If you accept at first, and any +unforeseen event keeps you from fulfilling your engagement, write a +second note, that your hostess may not wait dinner for you. Such a note, +if circumstances render it necessary to write it, may be sent with +perfect propriety an hour before the time appointed for dinner, though, +if you are aware that you cannot attend, earlier, you must send the +information in good season. + +You should enter the house of your hostess from a quarter to half an +hour earlier than the time appointed for dining. Proceed at once to the +dressing-room, and arrange your dress and hair, and then enter the +drawing-room. By going to the house too early, you may hasten or +interrupt the toilet arrangements of your hostess; while, by being +late, you will establish a most disagreeable association in the minds of +all present, as "the lady who kept dinner waiting at Mrs. L----'s." + +Immediately upon entering the parlor find your hostess, and speak to her +first. It is very rude to stop to chat with other guests before greeting +the lady of the house. You may bow to any one you know, in passing, but +do not stop to speak. Having exchanged a few words with your hostess, +turn to the other guests, unless you are the first arrival. In that +case, converse with your host and hostess until others come in. + +Be careful, if dinner is delayed by the tardiness of the guests, or from +any other cause, that you do not show by your manner that you are aware +of such delay. To look towards the door often, consult your watch, or +give tokens of weariness, are all marks of ill-breeding. Your hostess +will probably be sufficiently annoyed by the irregularity itself; do not +add to her discomfort by allowing her to suppose that her guests +perceive the deficiencies. Look over the books and pictures with an air +of interest, converse cheerfully, and in every way appear as if dinner +were a matter of secondary importance, (as, indeed, it should be,) +compared with the pleasure of the society around you. + +When the signal for dinner is given, your hostess will probably name +your escort to the table. If he is a stranger, bow in acknowledgement of +the introduction, take his arm, and fall into your place in the stream +of guests passing from the parlor to the dining-room. + +Take the seat pointed out by your hostess, or the waiter, as soon as it +is offered. Each one will do this upon entering, and it prevents the +confusion that will result if those first entering the room, remain +standing until all the other guests come in. + +When you take your seat, be careful that your chair does not stand upon +the dress of the lady next you, as she may not rise at the same instant +that you do, and so you risk tearing her dress. + +Sit gracefully at the table; neither so close as to make your movements +awkward, nor so far away as to drag your food over your dress before it +reaches your mouth. It is well to carry in your pocket a small +pincushion, and, having unfolded your napkin, to pin it at the belt. You +may do this quietly, without its being perceived, and you will thus +really save your dress. If the napkin is merely laid open upon your lap, +it will be very apt to slip down, if your dress is of silk or satin, and +you risk the chance of appearing again in the drawing-room with the +front of your dress soiled or greased. + +If, by the carelessness or awkwardness of your neighbors or the +servants, you have a plate of soup, glass of wine, or any dish intended +for your mouth, deposited upon your dress, do not spring up, or make any +exclamation. You may wipe off the worst of the spot with your napkin, +and then let it pass without further notice. If an apology is made by +the unlucky perpetrator of the accident, try to set him at his ease by +your own lady-like composure. He will feel sorry and awkward enough, +without reproach, sullenness, or cold looks from you. + +Gloves and mittens are no longer worn at table, even at the largest +dinner-parties. + +To make remarks upon the guests or the dishes is excessively rude. + +If the conversation is general, speak loudly enough to be heard by those +around you, but, at the same time, avoid raising your voice _too_ much. +If the company is very large, and you converse only with the person +immediately beside you, speak in a distinct, but low tone, that you may +not interrupt other couples, but carefully avoid whispering or a +confidential air. Both are in excessively bad taste. To laugh in a +suppressed way, has the appearance of laughing at those around you, and +a loud, boisterous laugh is always unlady-like. Converse cheerfully, +laugh quietly, but freely, if you will, and while you confine your +attention entirely to your neighbor, still avoid any air of secrecy or +mystery. + +Never use an eye-glass, either to look at the persons around you or the +articles upon the table. + +Eat your soup quietly. To make any noise in eating it, is simply +disgusting. Do not break bread into your soup. Break off small pieces +and put into your mouth, if you will, but neither bite it from the roll +nor break it up, and eat it from your soup-plate with a spoon. + +In eating bread with meat, never dip it into the gravy on your plate, +and then bite the end off. If you wish to eat it with gravy, break off a +small piece, put it upon your plate, and then, with a fork, convey it to +your mouth. + +When helped to fish, remove, with knife and fork, all the bones, then +lay down the knife, and, with a piece of bread in your left hand and a +fork in your right, eat the flakes of fish. + +Need I say that the knife is to cut your food with, and must never be +used while eating? To put it in your mouth is a distinctive mark of +low-breeding. + +If you have selected what you will eat, keep the plate that is placed +before you; never pass it to the persons next you, as they may have an +entirely different choice of meat or vegetables. + +Never attempt to touch any dish that is upon the table, but out of your +reach, by stretching out your arms, leaning forward, or, still worse, +standing up. Ask the waiter to hand it, if you wish for it; or, if the +gentleman beside you can easily do so, you may ask him to pass it to +you. + +Do not press those near you to take more or other things than are upon +their plate. This is the duty of the hostess, or, if the company is +large, the servants will attend to it. For you to do so is officious and +ill-bred. + +When conversing let your knife and fork rest easily upon your plate, +even if still in your hand. Avoid holding them upright. Keep your own +knife, fork, and spoon solely for the articles upon your own plate. To +use them for helping yourself to butter or salt, is rude in the extreme. + +When you do not use the salt-spoon, sugar tongs, and butter-knife, you +may be sure that those around you will conclude that you have never seen +the articles, and do not know their use. + +You need not fear to offend by refusing to take wine with a gentleman, +even your host. If you decline gracefully, he will appreciate the +delicacy which makes you refuse. If, however, you have no conscientious +scruples, and are invited to take wine, bow, and merely raise the glass +to your lips, then set it down again. You may thus acknowledge the +courtesy, and yet avoid actually drinking the wine. + +No lady should drink wine at dinner. Even if her head is strong enough +to bear it, she will find her cheeks, soon after the indulgence, +flushed, hot, and uncomfortable; and if the room is warm, and the dinner +a long one, she will probably pay the penalty of her folly, by having a +headache all the evening. + +If offered any dish of which you do not wish to partake, decline it, but +do not assign any reason. To object to the dish itself is an insult to +your entertainers, and if you assert any reason for your own dislike it +is ill-bred. + +Do not bend too much forward over your food, and converse easily. To eat +fast, or appear to be so much engrossed as to be unable to converse, is +ill-bred; and it makes those around you suspect that you are so little +accustomed to dining well, that you fear to stop eating an instant, lest +you should not get enough. + +It is equally ill-bred to accept every thing that is offered to you. +Never take more than two vegetables; do not take a second plate of soup, +pastry, or pudding. Indeed, it is best to accept but _one_ plate of any +article. + +Never use a spoon for anything but liquids, and never touch anything to +eat, excepting bread, celery, or fruit, with your fingers. + +In the intervals which must occur between the courses, do not appear to +be conscious of the lapse of time. Wear a careless air when waiting, +conversing cheerfully and pleasantly, and avoid looking round the room, +as if wondering what the waiters are about. + +Never eat every morsel that is upon your plate; and surely no lady will +ever scrape her plate, or pass the bread round it, as if to save the +servants the trouble of washing it. + +Take such small mouthfulls that you can always be ready for +conversation, but avoid playing with your food, or partaking of it with +an affectation of delicate appetite. Your hostess may suppose you +despise her fare, if you appear so very choice, or eat too sparingly. If +your state of health deprives you of appetite, it is bad enough for you +to decline the invitation to dine out. + +Never examine minutely the food before you. You insult your hostess by +such a proceeding, as it looks as if you feared to find something upon +the plate that should not be there. + +If you find a worm on opening a nut, or in any of the fruit, hand your +plate quietly, and without remark, to the waiter, and request him to +bring you a clean one. Do not let others perceive the movement, or the +cause of it, if you can avoid so doing. + +Never make a noise in eating. To munch or smack the lips are vulgar +faults. + +Sit quietly at table, avoid stiffness, but, at the same time, be careful +that you do not annoy others by your restlessness. + +Do not eat so fast as to be done long before others, nor so slowly as to +keep them waiting. + +When the finger-glasses are passed round, dip the ends of your fingers +into them, and wipe them upon your napkin; then do not fold your napkin, +but place it beside your plate upon the table. + +To carry away fruit or bonbons from the table is a sign of low breeding. + +Rise with the other ladies when your hostess gives the signal. + +After returning to the parlor, remain in the house at least an hour +after dinner is over. If you have another engagement in the evening, you +may then take your leave, but not before. You will insult your hostess +by leaving sooner, as it appears that you came only for the dinner, and +that being over, your interest in the house, for the time, has ceased. +It is only beggars who "eat and run!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +TABLE ETIQUETTE. + + +In order to appear perfectly well-bred at table when in company, or in +public, as at a hotel, you must pay attention, three times a day, to the +points of table etiquette. If you neglect these little details at home +and in private, they will be performed awkwardly and with an air of +restraint when you are in company. By making them habitual, they will +become natural, and appear easily, and sit gracefully upon you. + +Even when eating entirely alone, observe these little details, thus +making the most finished and elegant manners perfectly familiar, and +thus avoiding the stiff, awkward air you will wear if you keep your +politeness only for company, when you will be constantly apprehensive of +doing wrong. + +At breakfast or tea, if your seat is at the head of the table, you must, +before taking anything upon your own plate, fill a cup for each one of +the family, and pass them round, being careful to suit each one in the +preparation of the cup, that none may return to you for more tea, water, +sugar, or milk. If you have a visitor, pass the cup with the tea or +coffee alone in it, and hand with the cup the sugar bowl and cream +pitcher, that these may be added in the quantity preferred. + +After all the cups have been filled and passed round, you may take the +bread, butter, and other food upon your own plate. Train your children, +so that they will pass these things to you as soon as they see you are +ready to receive them. + +If you are yourself at the side of the table, pass the bread, butter, +etc., to the lady at the head, when you see that she has sent the cups +from the waiter before her, to those seated at the table. + +If you occupy the place of head of the table, you must watch the cups, +offer to fill them when empty, and also see that each one of the family +is well helped to the other articles upon the table. + +Avoid making any noise in eating, even if each meal is eaten in solitary +state. It is a disgusting habit, and one not easily cured if once +contracted, to make any noise with the lips when eating. + +Never put large pieces of food into your mouth. Eat slowly, and cut your +food into small pieces before putting it into your mouth. + +Use your fork, or spoon, never your knife, to put your food into your +mouth. At dinner, hold in your left hand a piece of bread, and raise +your meat or vegetables with the fork, holding the bread to prevent the +pieces slipping from the plate. + +If you are asked at table what part of the meat you prefer, name your +favorite piece, but do not give such information unless asked to do so. +To point out any especial part of a dish, and ask for it, is ill-bred. +To answer, when asked to select a part, that "it is a matter of +indifference," or, "I can eat any part," is annoying to the carver, as +he cares less than yourself certainly, and would prefer to give you the +piece you really like best. + +Do not pour coffee or tea from your cup into your saucer, and do not +blow either these or soup. Wait until they cool. + +Use the butter-knife, salt-spoon, and sugar-tongs as scrupulously when +alone, as if a room full of people were watching you. Otherwise, you may +neglect to do so when the omission will mortify you. + +Never put poultry or fish bones, or the stones of fruit, upon the +table-cloth, but place them on the edge of your plate. + +Do not begin to eat until others at the table are ready to commence too. + +Sit easily in your chair, neither too near the table, nor too far from +it, and avoid such tricks as putting your arms on the table, leaning +back lazily in your chair, or playing with your knife, fork, or spoon. + +Never raise your voice, when speaking, any higher than is necessary. The +clear articulation and distinct pronunciation of each word, will make a +low tone more agreeable and more easily understood, than the loudest +tone, if the speech is rapid or indistinct. + +Never pass your plate with the knife or fork upon it, and when you pass +your cup, put the spoon in the saucer. + +Never pile up the food on your plate. It looks as if you feared it would +all be gone before you could be helped again, and it will certainly +make your attempts to cut the food awkward, if your plate is crowded. + +If there is a delicacy upon the table, partake of it sparingly, and +never help yourself to it a second time. + +If you wish to cough, or use your handkerchief, rise from the table, and +leave the room. If you have not time to do this, cover your mouth, and +turn your head aside from the table, and perform the disagreeable +necessity as rapidly and quietly as possible. + +Avoid gesticulation at the table. Indeed, a well-bred lady will never +gesticulate, but converse quietly, letting the expression and animation +of her features give force to her words. + +Never, when at the home table, leave it until the other members of the +family are also ready to rise. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +CONDUCT IN THE STREET. + + +A lady's conduct is never so entirely at the mercy of critics, because +never so public, as when she is in the street. Her dress, carriage, +walk, will all be exposed to notice; every passer-by will look at her, +if it is only for one glance; every unlady-like action will be marked; +and in no position will a dignified, lady-like deportment be more +certain to command respect. + +Let me start with you upon your promenade, my friend, and I will soon +decide your place upon the list of well-bred ladies. + +First, your dress. Not that scarlet shawl, with a green dress, I beg, +and--oh! spare my nerves!--you are not so insane as to put on a blue +bonnet. That's right. If you wish to wear the green dress, don a black +shawl, and--that white bonnet will do very well. One rule you must lay +down with regard to a walking dress. It must never be conspicuous. Let +the material be rich, if you will; the set of each garment faultless; +have collar and sleeves snowy white, and wear neatly-fitting, whole, +clean gloves and boots. Every detail may be scrupulously attended to, +but let the whole effect be quiet and modest. Wear a little of one +bright color, if you will, but not more than one. Let each part of the +dress harmonize with all the rest; avoid the _extreme_ of fashion, and +let the dress suit _you_. If you are short and plump, do not wear +flounces, because they are fashionable, and avoid large plaids, even if +they are the very latest style. If tall and slight, do not add to the +length of your figure by long stripes, a little mantilla, and a +caricature of a bonnet, with long, streaming ribbons. A large, round +face will never look well, staring from a tiny, delicate bonnet; nor +will a long, thin one stand the test much better. Wear what is becoming +to _yourself_, and only bow to fashion enough to avoid eccentricity. To +have everything in the _extreme_ of fashion, is a sure mark of +vulgarity. + +Wear no jewelry in the street excepting your watch and brooch. Jewelry +is only suited for full evening dress, when all the other details unite +to set it off. If it is real, it is too valuable to risk losing in the +street, and if it is _not_ real, no lady should wear it. Mock jewelry is +utterly detestable. + +What are you doing? Sucking the head of your parasol! Have you not +breakfasted? Take that piece of ivory from your mouth! To suck it is +unlady-like, and let me tell you, excessively unbecoming. Rosy lips and +pearly teeth can be put to a better use. + +Why did you not dress before you came out? It is a mark of ill-breeding +to draw your gloves on in the street. Now your bonnet-strings, and +now--your collar! Pray arrange your dress before you leave the house! +Nothing looks worse than to see a lady fussing over her dress in the +street. Take a few moments more in your dressing-room, and so arrange +your dress that you will not need to think of it again whilst you are +out. + +Do not walk so fast! you are not chasing anybody! Walk slowly, +gracefully! Oh, do not drag one foot after the other as if you were fast +asleep--set down the foot lightly, but at the same time firmly; now, +carry your head up, not so; you hang it down as if you feared to look +any one in the face! Nay, that is the other extreme! Now you look like a +drill-major, on parade! So! that is the medium. Erect, yet, at the same +time, easy and elegant. + +Now, my friend, do not swing your arms. You don't know what to do with +them? Your parasol takes one hand; hold your dress up a little with the +other. Not so! No lady should raise her dress above the ankle. + +Take care! don't drag your dress through that mud-puddle! Worse and +worse! If you take hold of your dress on both sides, in that way, and +drag it up so high, you will be set down as a raw country girl. So. +Raise it just above the boot, all round, easily, letting it fall again +in the old folds. Don't shake it down; it will fall back of itself. + +Stop! don't you see there is a carriage coming? Do you want to be thrown +down by the horses? You can run across? Very lady-like indeed! Surely +nothing can be more ungraceful than to see a lady shuffle and run across +a street. Wait until the way is clear and then walk slowly across. + +Do not try to raise your skirts. It is better to soil them. (You were +very foolish to wear white skirts this muddy day.) _They_ are easily +washed, and you cannot raise _all_. You will surely be awkward in making +the attempt, and probably fail, in spite of your efforts. True, they +will be badly soiled, and you expose this when you raise the dress, but +the state of the streets must be seen by all who see your share of the +dirt, and they will apologize for your untidy appearance in a language +distinctly understood. + +Don't hold your parasol so close to your face, nor so low down. You +cannot see your way clear, and you will run against somebody. Always +hold an umbrella or parasol so that it will clear your bonnet, and leave +the space before your face open, that you may see your way clearly. + +If you are ever caught in a shower, and meet a gentleman friend who +offers an umbrella, accept it, if he will accompany you to your +destination; but do not deprive him of it, if he is not able to join +you. Should he insist, return it to his house or store the instant you +reach home, with a note of thanks. If a stranger offers you the same +services, decline it positively, but courteously, at the same time +thanking him. + +Never stop to speak to a gentleman in the street. If you have anything +important to say to him, allow him to join and walk with you, but do not +stop. It is best to follow the same rule with regard to ladies, and +either walk with them or invite them to walk with you, instead of +stopping to talk. + +A lady who desires to pay strict regard to etiquette, will not stop to +gaze in at the shop windows. It looks countrified. If she is alone, it +looks as if she were waiting for some one; and if she is not alone, she +is victimizing some one else, to satisfy her curiosity. + +Remember that in meeting your gentlemen friends it is your duty to speak +first, therefore do not cut them by waiting to be recognized. Be sure, +however, that they see you before you bow, or you place yourself in the +awkward position of having your bow pass, unreturned. + +You are not expected to recognize any friend on the opposite side of the +street. Even if you see them, do not bow. + +Avoid "cutting" any one. It is a small way of showing spite, and lowers +you more than your enemy. If you wish to avoid any further intercourse +bow, coldly and gravely, but do not look at any one, to whom you are in +the habit of bowing, and pass without bowing. If you do this, they may +flatter themselves that they were really unrecognized, but a distant, +cold bow will show them that you speak from civility only, not from +friendship. + +In the street a lady takes the arm of a relative, her affianced lover, +or husband, but of no other gentleman, unless the streets are slippery, +or in the evening. + +When a lady walks with two gentlemen, she should endeavor to divide her +attention and remarks equally between them. + +If you do stop in the street, draw near the walls, that you may not keep +others from passing. + +Loud talking and laughing in the street are excessively vulgar. Not only +this, but they expose a lady to the most severe misconstruction. Let +your conduct be modest and quiet. + +If a gentleman, although a stranger, offers his hand to assist you in +leaving a carriage, omnibus, or to aid you in crossing where it is wet +or muddy, accept his civility, thank him, bow and pass on. + +If you wish to take an omnibus or car, see that it is not already full. +If it is, do not get in. You will annoy others, and be uncomfortable +yourself. + +It is best to carry change to pay car or omnibus fare, as you keep +others waiting whilst the driver is making change, and it is apt to fall +into the straw when passing from one hand to another. + +If a gentleman gives you his seat, hands your fare, or offers you any +such attention, _thank him_. It is not countrified, it is lady-like. If +you do not speak, bow. + +Be careful not to be alone in the streets after night fall. It exposes +you to insult. If you are obliged to go out, have a servant, or another +lady, if you cannot procure the escort of a gentleman, which is, of +course, the best. + +Walk slowly, do not turn your head to the right or left, unless you wish +to walk that way, and avoid any gesture or word that will attract +attention. + +Never look back! It is excessively ill-bred. + +Make no remarks upon those who pass you, while there is even a +possibility that they may hear you. + +Never stare at any one, even if they have peculiarities, which make them +objects of remark. + +In taking your place in an omnibus or car, do so quietly, and then sit +perfectly still. Do not change your place or move restlessly. Make room +for others if you see that the opposite side is full. + +If you walk with a gentleman, when he reaches your door invite him in, +but if he declines, do not urge him. If you are returning from a ball or +party, and the hour is a very late (or early) one, you are not bound in +politeness to invite your escort to enter; the hour will be your apology +for omitting the ceremony. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +LETTER WRITING. + + +There is no branch of education called so universally into requisition +as the art of letter writing; no station, high or low, where the +necessity for correspondence is not felt; no person, young or old, who +does not, at some time, write, cause to be written, and receive letters. +From the President in his official capacity, with the busy pens of +secretaries constantly employed in this branch of service, to the Irish +laborer who, unable to guide a pen, writes, also by proxy, to his +kinsfolks across the wide ocean; all, at some time, feel the desire to +transmit some message, word of love, business, or sometimes enmity, by +letter. + +Yet, in spite of the universal need, and almost universal habit, there +are really but very few persons who write a _good_ letter; a letter that +is, at the same time long enough to interest, yet not long enough to +tire; sufficiently condensed to keep the attention, and not tedious, and +yet detailed enough to afford satisfaction; that is correct in +grammatical construction, properly punctuated, written in a clear, +legible hand, with the date, address, signature, all in the proper +place, no words whose letters stand in utter defiance to spelling-book +rules; in short, a well-written letter. + +Thousands, millions are sent from post to post every day. The lightning +speed of the telegraph takes its messages from city to city; the panting +steamer carries from continent to continent its heavy mail-bags, laden +with its weight of loving messages; the "iron horse" drags behind it, +its measure of the many missives; while, in the far-distant Western +wilds, the lumbering wagon bears its paper freight, with its pen +eloquence, to cheer and comfort, or sadden and crush, the waiting +emigrants, longing for news of home. + +To some, who, with hearts desolated by the separation from the home +circle, could read, with an eager interest, volumes of the most +common-place, trivial incidents, if only connected with the loved ones +there, will come pages, from the pen of the dearest relative, full of +learning, wit, and wisdom, wholly uninteresting to the receiver. + +Why is this? Not from any desire upon the part of the writer to display +learning or talent, but because, writing a letter being to them a great +undertaking, and the letter being destined to go a long distance, they +look upon it as an event too unusual to be wasted in detailing the +simple, every-day details of domestic life, and ransack memory and +learning for a subject worthy of the long journey and unusual labor. + +Others will have, from mere acquaintances, long, tedious details of +uninteresting trivialities, and from the near relatives, short, dry +epistles, which fall like stones upon the heart longing for little, +affectionate expressions, and home memories. + +From some letter writers, who are in the midst of scenes and events of +the most absorbing interest, letters arrive, only a few lines long, +without one allusion to the interesting matter lying so profusely around +them; while others, with the scantiest of outward subjects, will, from +their own teeming brain, write bewitching, absorbing epistles, read with +eagerness, laid aside with the echo of Oliver Twist's petition in a +sigh; the reader longing for "more." + +It is, of course, impossible to lay down any distinct rule for the +_style_ of letter writing. Embracing, as it does, all subjects and all +classes, all countries and associations, and every relation in which one +person can stand to another, what would be an imperative rule in some +cases, becomes positive absurdity in others. Every letter will vary from +others written before, in either its subject, the person addressed, or +the circumstances which make it necessary to write it. + +Letter writing is, in fact, but conversation, carried on with the pen, +when distance or circumstances prevent the easier method of exchanging +ideas, by spoken words. Write, therefore, as you would speak, were the +person to whom your letter is addressed seated beside you. As amongst +relatives and intimate friends you would converse with a familiar +manner, and in easy language, so in your letters to such persons, let +your style be simple, entirely devoid of effort. + +Again, when introduced to a stranger, or conversing with one much older +than yourself, your manner is respectful and dignified; so let the +letters addressed to those on these terms with yourself, be written in a +more ceremonious style, but at the same time avoid stiffness, and above +all, pedantry. A letter of advice to a child, would of course demand an +entirely different style, from that written by a young lady to a friend +or relative advanced in life; yet the general rule, "write as you would +converse," applies to each and every case. + +Neatness is an important requisite in a letter. To send a fair, clean +sheet, with the words written in a clear, legible hand, will go a great +way in ensuring a cordial welcome for your letter. Avoid erasures, as +they spoil the beauty of your sheet. If it is necessary to correct a +word, draw your pen through it, and write the word you wish to use as a +substitute, above the one erased; do not scratch out the word and write +another over it: it is untidy, and the second word is seldom legible. +Another requisite for a good letter is a clear, concise style. Use +language that will be easily understood, and avoid the parenthesis. +Important passages in letters are often lost entirely, by the ambiguous +manner in which they are worded, or rendered quite as unintelligible by +the blots, erasures, or villainously bad hand-writing. A phrase may, by +the addition or omission of one word, or by the alteration of one +punctuation mark, convey to the reader an entirely different idea from +that intended by the writer; so, while you write plainly, use good +language, you must also write carefully, and punctuate properly. + +If you are in doubt about the correct spelling of a word, do not trust +to chance, hoping it may be right, but get a dictionary, and be certain +that you have spelt it as it ought to be. + +Simplicity is a great charm in letter-writing. What you send in a +letter, is, as a general rule, intended for the perusal of one person +only. Therefore to cumber your epistles with quotations, similes, +flowery language, and a stilted, pedantic style, is in bad taste. You +may use elegant language, yet use it easily. If you use a quotation, let +it come into its place naturally, as if flowing in perfect harmony with +your ideas, and let it be short. Long quotations in a letter are +tiresome. Make no attempt at display in a correspondence. You will err +as much in such an attempt, as if, when seated face to face with your +correspondent, alone in your own apartment, you were to rise and +converse with the gestures and language of a minister in his pulpit, or +a lecturer upon his platform. + +As everything, in style, depends upon the subject of the letter, and the +person to whom it is addressed, some words follow, relating to some of +the various kinds of correspondence: + +BUSINESS LETTERS should be as brief as is consistent with the subject; +clear, and to the point. Say all that is necessary, in plain, distinct +language, and say no more. State, in forcible words, every point that it +is desirable for your correspondent to be made acquainted with, that +your designs and prospects upon the subject may be perfectly well +understood. Write, in such a letter, of nothing but the business in +hand; other matters will be out of place there. Nowhere is a confused +style, or illegible writing, more unpardonable than in a business +letter; nowhere a good style and hand more important. Avoid flowery +language, too many words, all pathos or wit, any display of talent or +learning, and every merely personal matter, in a business letter. + +LETTERS OF COMPLIMENT must be restricted, confined entirely to one +subject. If passing between acquaintances, they should be written in a +graceful, at the same time respectful, manner. Avoid hackneyed +expressions, commonplace quotations, and long, labored sentences, but +while alluding to the subject in hand, as if warmly interested in it, at +the same time endeavor to write in a style of simple, natural grace. + +LETTERS OF CONGRATULATION demand a cheerful, pleasant style, and an +appearance of great interest. They should be written from the heart, and +the cordial, warm feelings there will prompt the proper language. Be +careful, while offering to your friend the hearty congratulations her +happy circumstances demand, that you do not let envy at her good +fortune, creep into your head, to make the pen utter complaining words +at your own hard lot. Do not dampen her joy, by comparing her happiness +with the misery of another. There are many clouds in the life of every +one of us. While the sun shines clearly upon the events of your friend's +life let her enjoy the brightness and warmth, unshadowed by any words of +yours. Give her, to the full, your sympathy in her rejoicing, cheerful +words, warm congratulations, and bright hopes for the future. Should +there be, at the time of her happiness, any sad event you wish to +communicate to her, of which it is your duty to inform her, write it in +another letter. If you must send it the same day, do so, but let the +epistle wishing her joy, go alone, unclouded with the news of sorrow. At +the same time, avoid exaggerated expressions of congratulation, lest you +are suspected of a desire to be satirical, and avoid underlining any +words. If the language is not forcible enough to convey your ideas, you +will not make it better by underlining it. If you say to your friend +upon her marriage, that you wish her "_joy_ in her new relations, and +_hope_ she may be _entirely happy_ in her domestic life," you make her +doubt your wishes, and think you mean to ridicule her chances of such +happiness. + +LETTERS OF CONDOLENCE are exceedingly trying, both to read and to write. +If the affliction which calls for them is one which touches you nearly, +really grieving and distressing you, all written words must seem tame +and cold, compared with the aching sympathy which dictates them. It is +hard with the eyes blinded by tears, and the hand shaking, to write +calmly; and it is impossible to express upon paper all the burning +thoughts and words that would pour forth, were you beside the friend +whose sorrow is yours. If you do not feel the trial, your task is still +more difficult, for no letters demand truth, spoken from the heart, more +than letters of condolence. Do not treat the subject for grief too +lightly. Write words of comfort if you will, but do not appear to +consider the affliction as a trifle. Time may make it less severe, but +the first blow of grief must be heavy, and a few words of sincere +sympathy will outweigh pages of mere expressions of hope for comfort, or +the careless lines that show the letter to be one of mere duty, not +feeling. Let your friend feel that her sorrow makes her dearer to you +than ever before, and that her grief is yours. To treat the subject with +levity, or to wander from it into witticisms or every-day chit-chat, is +a wanton insult, unworthy of a lady and a friend. Do not magnify the +event, or plunge the mourner into still deeper despondency by taking a +despairing, gloomy view of the sorrow, under which she is bent. Show her +the silver lining of her cloud, try to soothe her grief, yet be willing +to admit that it _is_ a cloud, and that she _has_ cause for grief. To +throw out hints that the sorrow is sent as a punishment to an offender; +to imply that neglect or imprudence on the part of the mourner is the +cause of the calamity; to hold up the trial as an example of +retribution, or a natural consequence of wrong doing, is cruel, and +barbarous. Even if this is true, (indeed, if this is the case, it only +aggravates the insult); avoid such retrospection. It is as if a surgeon, +called in to a patient suffering from a fractured limb, sat down, +inattentive to the suffering, to lecture his patient upon the +carelessness which caused the accident. One of the most touching letters +of condolence ever written was sent by a literary lady, well known in +the ranks of our American authoresses, to her sister, who had lost her +youngest child. The words were few, merely:-- + + "SISTER DARLING: + + "I cannot write what is in my heart for you to-day, it is too + full. Filled with a double sorrow, for you, for my own grief. + Tears blind me, my pen trembles in my hand. Oh, to be near + you! to clasp you in my arms! to draw your head to my bosom, + and weep with you! Darling, God comfort you, I cannot. + + "S." + +That was all. Yet the sorrowing mother said that no other letter, though +she appreciated the kind motive that dictated all, yet none comforted +her as did these few lines. Written from the heart, their simple +eloquence touched the heart for which they were intended. Early stages +of great grief reject _comfort_, but they long, with intense longing, +for sympathy. + +LETTERS WRITTEN TO GENTLEMEN should be ceremonious and dignified. If the +acquaintance is slight, write in the third person, if there is a +necessity for a letter. If a business letter, be respectful, yet not +servile. It is better to avoid correspondence with gentlemen, +particularly whilst you are young, as there are many objections to it. +Still, if a friend of long standing solicits a correspondence, and your +parents or husband approve and permit compliance with the request, it +would be over-prudish to refuse. Write, however, such letters as, if +they were printed in the newspapers, would cause you no annoyance. If +the acquaintance admits of a frank, friendly style, be careful that your +expressions of good will do not become too vehement, and avoid any +confidential communications. When he begins to ask you to keep such and +such passages secret, believe me, it is quite time to drop the +correspondence. + +LETTERS OF ENQUIRY, especially if they request a favor, should contain a +few lines of compliment. If the letter is upon a private subject, such +as enquiry with regard to the illness or misfortune of a friend, avoid +making it too brief. To write short, careless letters upon such +subjects, is unfeeling, and they will surely be attributed to motives of +obligation or duty, not to interest. Letters of enquiry, referring to +family matters, should be delicately worded, and appear dictated by +interest, not mere curiosity. If the enquiry refers to matters +interesting only to yourself, enclose a postage-stamp for the reply. In +answering such letters, if they refer to your own health or subjects +interesting to yourself, thank the writer for the interest expressed, +and answer in a satisfactory manner. If the answer interests your +correspondent only, do not reply as if the enquiry annoyed you, but +express some interest in the matter of the letter, and give as clear and +satisfactory reply as is in your power. + +LETTERS OFFERING FAVORS--Be careful in writing to offer a favor, that +you do not make your friend feel a heavy weight of obligation by +over-rating your services. The kindness will be duly appreciated, and +more highly valued if offered in a delicate manner. Too strong a sense +of obligation is humiliating, so do not diminish the real value of the +service by forcing the receiver to acknowledge a fictitious value. Let +the recipient of your good will feel that it affords you as much +pleasure to confer the favor as it will give her to receive it. A letter +accompanying a present, should be short and gracefully worded. The +affectionate spirit of such little epistles will double the value of the +gift which they accompany. Never refer to a favor received, in such a +letter, as that will give your gift the appearance of being payment for +such favor, and make your letter of about as much value as a tradesman's +receipted bill. + +LETTERS OF THANKS for enquiries made, should be short, merely echoing +the words of the letter they answer, and contain the answer to the +question, with an acknowledgement of your correspondent's interest. If +the letter is your own acknowledgement of a favor conferred, let the +language be simple, but strong, grateful, and graceful. Fancy that you +are clasping the hand of the kind friend who has been generous or +thoughtful for you, and then write, even as you would speak. Never hint +that you deem such a favor an obligation to be returned at the first +opportunity; although this may really be the case, it is extremely +indelicate to say so. In your letter gracefully acknowledge the +obligation, and if, at a later day, you can return the favor, then let +actions, not words, prove your grateful recollection of the favor +conferred upon you. If your letter is written to acknowledge the +reception of a present, speak of the beauty or usefulness of the gift, +and of the pleasant associations with her name it will always recall. + +LETTERS OF RECOMMENDATION should be truthful, polite, and carefully +considered. Such letters may be business letters, or they may be given +to servants, and they must be given only when really deserved. Do not be +hasty in giving them; remember that you are, in some measure responsible +for the bearer; therefore, never sacrifice truth and frankness, to a +mistaken idea of kindness or politeness. + +LETTERS OF INTRODUCTION must be left unsealed. They must not contain any +allusion to the personal qualities of the bearer, as such allusion +would be about as sure a proof of ill-breeding as if you sat beside your +friend, and ran over the list of the virtues and talents possessed by +her. The fact that the person bearing the letter is your friend, will be +all sufficient reason for cordial reception by the friend to whom the +letter is addressed. The best form is:-- + + PHILADELPHIA, _June 18th, 18--_. + MY DEAR MARY: + + This letter will be handed to you by Mrs. C., to whom I am + pleased to introduce you, certain that the acquaintance thus + formed, between two friends of mine, of so long standing and + so much beloved, will be pleasant to both parties. Any + attention that you may find it in your power to extend to Mrs. + C. whilst she is in your city, will be highly appreciated, and + gratefully acknowledged, by + + Your sincere friend + A----. + +LETTERS OF ADVICE should not be written unsolicited. They will, in all +probability, even when requested, be unpalatable, and should never be +sent unless they can really be of service. Write them with frankness and +sincerity. To write after an act has been committed, and is irrevocable, +is folly, and it is also unkind. You may inform your friend that, "had +you been consulted, a different course from the one taken would have +been recommended," and you may really believe this, yet it will probably +be false. Seeing the unfavorable result of the wrong course will enable +you fully to appreciate the wisdom of the right one, but, had you been +consulted when the matter was doubtful, you would probably have been as +much puzzled as your friend to judge the proper mode of action. You +should word a letter of advice delicately, stating your opinion frankly +and freely, but giving it _as_ an opinion, not as a positive law. If the +advice is not taken, do not feel offended, as others, more experienced +than yourself upon the point in question, may have also been consulted. +Let no selfish motive govern such a letter. Think only of the good or +evil to result to your friend, and while you may write warmly and +earnestly, let the motive be a really disinterested one. + +LETTERS OF EXCUSE should be frank and graceful. They must be written +promptly, as soon as the occasion that calls for them admits. If +delayed, they become insulting. If such a letter is called forth by an +act of negligence on your own part, apologize for it frankly, and show +by your tone that you sincerely desire to regain the confidence your +carelessness has periled. If you have been obliged by positive inability +to neglect the fulfilment of any promise you have given, or any +commission you have undertaken, then state the reason for your delay, +and solicit the indulgence of your friend. Do not write in such stiff, +formal language that the apology will seem forced from you, but offer +your excuse frankly, as if with a sincere desire to atone for an act of +negligence, or remove a ground of offence. + +LETTERS OF INTELLIGENCE are generally the answer to letters of enquiry, +or the statement of certain incidents or facts, interesting both to the +writer and reader of the letter. Be careful in writing such a letter +that you have all the facts in exact accordance with the truth. Remember +that every word is set down against you, if one item of your information +prove to be false; and do not allow personal opinion or prejudice to +dictate a single sentence. Never repeat anything gathered from mere +hearsay, and be careful, in such a letter, that you violate no +confidence, nor force yourself upon the private affairs of any one. Do +not let scandal or a mere love of gossip dictate a letter of +intelligence. If your news is painful, state it as delicately as +possible, and add a few lines expressive of sympathy. If it is your +pleasant task to communicate a joyful event, make your letter cheerful +and gay. If you have written any such letter, and, after sending it, +find you have made any error in a statement, write, and correct the +mistake immediately. It may be a trivial error, yet there is no false or +mistaken news so trifling as to make a correction unnecessary. + +INVITATIONS are generally written in the third person, and this form is +used where the acquaintance is very slight, for formal notes, and cards +of compliment. The form is proper upon such occasions, but should be +used only in the most ceremonious correspondence. If this style is +adopted by a person who has been accustomed to write in a more familiar +one to you, take it as a hint, that the correspondence has, for some +reason, become disagreeable, and had better cease. + +AUTOGRAPH LETTERS should be very short; merely acknowledging the +compliment paid by the request for the signature, and a few words +expressing the pleasure you feel in granting the favor. If you write to +ask for an autograph, always inclose a postage stamp for the answer. + +Date every letter you write accurately, and avoid postscripts. + +Politeness, kindness, both demand that every letter you receive must be +answered. Nothing can give more pleasure in a correspondence, than +prompt replies. Matters of much importance often rest upon the reply to +a letter, and therefore this duty should never be delayed. In answering +friendly letters, it will be found much easier to write what is kind and +interesting, if you sit down to the task as soon as you read your +friend's letter. Always mention the date of the letter to which your own +is a reply. + +Never write on a half sheet of paper. Paper is cheap, and a _half_ sheet +looks both mean and slovenly. If you do not write but three lines, still +send the whole sheet of paper. Perfectly plain paper, thick, smooth, and +white, is the most elegant. When in mourning, use paper and envelopes +with a black edge. Never use the gilt edged, or fancy bordered paper; it +looks vulgar, and is in bad taste. You may, if you will, have your +initials stamped at the top of the sheet, and on the seal of the +envelope, but do not have any fancy ornaments in the corners, or on the +back of the envelope. + +You will be guilty of a great breach of politeness, if you answer either +a note or letter upon the half sheet of the paper sent by your +correspondent, even though it may be left blank. + +Never write, even the shortest note, in pencil. It looks careless, and +is rude. + +Never write a letter carelessly. It may be addressed to your most +intimate friend, or your nearest relative, but you can never be sure +that the eye for which it is intended, will be the _only_ one that sees +it. I do not mean by this, that the epistle should be in a formal, +studied _style_, but that it must be correct in its grammatical +construction, properly punctuated, with every word spelt according to +rule. Even in the most familiar epistles, observe the proper rules for +composition; you would not in conversing, even with your own family, use +incorrect grammar, or impertinent language; therefore avoid saying upon +paper what you would not say with your tongue. + +Notes written in the third person, must be continued throughout in the +same person; they are frequently very mysterious from the confusion of +pronouns, yet it is a style of correspondence much used and very proper +upon many occasions. For compliment, inquiry where there is no intimacy +between the parties, from superiors to inferiors, the form is elegant +and proper. If you receive a note written in the third person, reply in +the same form, but do not reply thus to a more familiar note or letter, +as it is insulting, and implies offence taken. If you wish to repel +undue familiarity or impertinence in your correspondent, then reply to +the epistle in the most formal language, and in the third person. + +It is an extraordinary fact, that persons who have received a good +education, and who use their pens frequently, will often, in writing +notes, commence in the third person and then use the second or first +personal pronoun, and finish by a signature; thus-- + + Miss Claire's compliments to Mr. James, and wishes to know + whether you have finished reading my copy of "Jane Eyre," as + if Mr. James had finished it, I would like to lend it to + another friend. + + Sincerely yours, + ELLA CLAIRE. + +The errors in the above are too glaring to need comment, yet, with only +the alteration of names, it is a copy, _verbatim_, of a note written by +a well educated girl. + +Never sign a note written in the third person, if you begin the note +with your own name. It is admissible, if the note is worded in this +way:-- + + Will Mr. James return by bearer, the copy of "Jane Eyre" he + borrowed, if he has finished reading it, and oblige his + sincere friend, + + ELLA CLAIRE. + +If you use a quotation, never omit to put it in quotation marks, +otherwise your correspondent may, however unjustly, accuse you of a +desire to pass off the idea and words of another, for your own. + +Avoid postscripts. Above all, never send an inquiry or compliment in a +postscript. To write a long letter, upon various subjects, and in the +postscript desire to be remembered to your friend's family, or inquire +for their welfare, instead of a compliment, becomes insulting. It is +better, if you have not time to write again and place such inquiries +above your signature, to omit them entirely. Nobody likes to see their +name mentioned as an afterthought. + +Punctuate your letters carefully. The want of a mark of punctuation, or +the incorrect placing of it, will make the most woful confusion. I give +an instance of the utter absurdity produced by the alteration of +punctuation marks, turning a sensible paragraph to the most arrant +nonsense: + +"Caesar entered; on his head his helmet; on his feet armed sandals; upon +his brow there was a cloud; in his right hand his faithful sword; in his +eye an angry glare; saying nothing, he sat down." + +By using precisely the same words, merely altering the position of the +punctuation marks, we have-- + +"Caesar entered on his head; his helmet on his feet; armed sandals upon +his brow; there was a cloud in his right hand; his faithful sword in his +eye; an angry glare saying nothing; he sat down." + +Be careful, then, to punctuate properly, that you may convey to the +reader the exact sense of what is in your mind. + +If you receive an impertinent letter, treat it with contempt; do not +answer it. + +Never answer a letter by proxy, when you are able to write yourself. It +is a mark of respect and love, to answer, in your own hand, all letters +addressed to you. If you are obliged to write to a friend to refuse to +grant a favor asked, you will lessen the pain of refusal by wording your +letter delicately. Loving words, if it is a near friend, respectful, +kind ones if a mere acquaintance, will make the disagreeable contents of +the letter more bearable. Try to make the _manner_ smooth and soften the +hardness of the _matter_. + +Every letter must embrace the following particulars: 1st. The date. 2d. +The complimentary address. 3d. The body of the letter. 4th. The +complimentary closing. 5th. The signature. 6th. The address. + +There are two ways of putting the date, and the address. The first is to +place them at the top of the sheet, the other is to place them after the +signature. + +When at the top, you write the name of your residence, or that of the +city in which you reside, with the day of the month and the year, at the +right hand of the first line of the sheet. Then, at the left hand of the +next line, write the address, then the complimentary address below the +name; thus-- + + WILLOW GROVE, NEW YORK, + _June 27th, 1859_. + + MRS. E. C. HOWELL, + + My dear Madam, + I received your letter, etc. + +At the end of the letter, on the right hand of the sheet, put the +complimentary closing, and then the signature; thus-- + + I remain, my dear Madam, + With much respect, + Yours sincerely, + S. E. LAW. + +If you place the date and address after the signature, put it at the +left of the sheet; thus-- + + I remain, my dear Madam, + With much respect, + Yours sincerely, + S. E. LAW. + + MRS. E. C. HOWELL. + _June 27th, 1859._ + +For a long letter, it is better to put the date and address at the top +of the page. For a letter of only a few lines, which ends on the first +page, the second form is best. In a letter written to a person in the +same city, you need not put the address under the signature; if not, +write it-- + + S. E. LAW, + WILLOW GROVE, NEW YORK. + +In writing to a dear friend or relative, where there is no formality +required, you may omit the name at the top of the letter; put the date +and address thus-- + + WILLOW GROVE, NEW YORK, + _June 27th, 1859_. + + DEAR ANNA: + + I write, etc. + +It is best, however, to put the full name at the bottom of the last +page, in case the letter is mislaid without the envelope; thus-- + + E. C. LAW. + MISS ANNA WRIGHT. + +If you use an envelope, and this custom is now universal, fold your +letter neatly to fit into it; then direct on the envelope. Put first the +name, then the name of the person to whose care the letter must be +directed, then the street, the city, and State. If the town is small, +put also the county. + +This is the form:-- + + MISS ANNA WRIGHT, + Care of Mr. John C. Wright, + No. 40, Lexington street, + Greensburg--Lee County. + Mass. + +If the city is a large one, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, or any of +the principal cities of the Union, you may omit the name of the county. +If your letter is to go abroad, add the name of the country: as, +England, or France, in full, under that of the city. + +The name of the state is usually abbreviated, and for the use of my +readers, I give the names of the United States with their abbreviations: + +Maine, Me. New Hampshire, N. H. Vermont, Vt. Massachusetts, Mass. Rhode +Island, R. I. Connecticut, Conn. New York, N. Y. New Jersey, N. J. +Pennsylvania, Pa., or, Penn. Delaware, Del. Maryland, Md. Virginia, Va. +North Carolina, N. C. South Carolina, S. C. Georgia, Ga., or, Geo. +Alabama, Ala. Mississippi, Miss. Missouri, Mo. Louisiana, La. Tennessee, +Tenn. Kentucky, Ky. Indiana, Ind. Ohio, O. Michigan, Mich. Illinois, +Ill. Wisconsin, Wis. Arkansas, Ark. Texas, Tex. Iowa, Io. Florida, Flo. +Oregon, O. California, Cal. Minnesota, Minn. District of Columbia, D. C. +If you are writing from another country to America, put United States of +America after the name of the state. + +On the upper right hand corner of your envelope, put your postage-stamp. + +If you send a letter by private hand, write the name of the bearer in +the lower left hand corner, thus: + + MRS. E. A. HOWELL, + Clinton Place, + Boston. + + Mr. G. G. Lane. + +In directing to any one who can claim any prefix, or addition, to his +proper name do not omit to put that "republican title." For a clergyman, +Rev. for Reverend is put before the name, thus:-- + + REV. JAMES C. DAY. + +For a bishop: + + RIGHT REVEREND E. BANKS. + +For a physician: + + DR. JAMES CURTIS. + + or, + + JAMES CURTIS, M.D. + +For a member of Congress: + + HON. E. C. DELTA. + +For an officer in the navy: + + CAPT. HENRY LEE, U. S. N. + +For an officer in the army: + + COL. EDWARD HOLMES, U. S. A. + +For a professor: + + PROF. E. L. JAMES. + +If the honorary addition, LL.D., A. M., or any such title belongs to +your correspondent, add it to his name on the envelope, thus:-- + + J. L. PETERS, LL.D. + +If you seal with wax, it is best to put a drop under the turn-over, and +fasten this down firmly before you drop the wax that is to receive the +impression. + +Cards of compliment are usually written in the third person. I give a +few of the most common and proper forms. + +For a party: + + Miss Lee's compliments to Mr. Bates, for Wednesday evening, + Nov. 18th, at 8 o'clock. + +Addressed to a lady: + + Miss Lee requests the pleasure of Miss Howard's company on + Wednesday evening, Nov. 18th, at 8 o'clock. + +For a ball, the above form, with the word _Dancing_, in the left hand +corner. + +Invitations to dinner or tea specify the entertainment thus: + + Mrs. Garret's compliments to Mr. and Mrs. Howard, and requests + the pleasure of their company to dine (or take tea) on + Wednesday, Nov. 6th, at 6 o'clock. + +The form for answering, is:-- + + Miss Howard accepts with pleasure Miss Lee's polite invitation + for Wednesday evening. + + or, + + Miss Howard regrets that a prior engagement will prevent her + accepting Miss Lee's polite invitation for Wednesday evening. + + Mr. and Mrs. Howard's compliments to Mrs. Garret, and accept + with pleasure her kind invitation for Wednesday. + + or, + + Mrs. Howard regrets that the severe illness of Mr. Howard will + render it impossible for either herself or Mr. Howard to join + Mrs. Garret's party on Wednesday next. + +Upon visiting cards, left when the caller is about to leave the city, +the letters _p. p. c._ are put in the left hand corner, they are the +abbreviation of the French words, _pour prendre conge_, or may, with +equal propriety, stand for _presents parting compliments_. Another form, +_p. d. a._, _pour dire adieu_, may be used. + +No accomplishment within the scope of human knowledge is so beautiful in +all its features as that of epistolary correspondence. Though distance, +absence, and circumstances may separate the holiest alliances of +friendship, or those who are bound together by the still stronger ties +of affection, yet the power of interchanging thoughts, words, feelings, +and sentiments, through the medium of letters, adds a sweetness to the +pain of separation, renovating to life, and adding to happiness. + +The wide ocean may roll between those who have passed the social years +of youth together, or the snow-capped Alps may rise in sublime grandeur, +separating early associates; still young remembrances may be called up, +and the paradise of memory made to bloom afresh with unwithered flowers +of holy recollection. + +Though we see not eye to eye and face to face, where the soft music of a +loved voice may fall with its richness upon the ear, yet the very soul +and emotions of the mind may be poured forth in such melody as to touch +the heart "that's far away," and melt down the liveliest eye into tears +of ecstatic rapture. + +Without the ability to practice the refined art of epistolary +correspondence, men would become cold and discordant: an isolated +compound of misanthropy. They would fall off in forsaken fragments from +the great bond of union which now adorns and beautifies all society. +Absence, distance, and time would cut the silken cords of parental, +brotherly, and even connubial affection. Early circumstances would be +lost in forgetfulness, and the virtues of reciprocal friendship "waste +their sweetness on the desert air." + +Since, then, the art and practice of letter-writing is productive of so +much refined and social happiness, a laudable indulgence in it must ever +be commendable. While it elevates the noble faculties of the mind, it +also chastens the disposition, and improves those intellectual powers +which would otherwise remain dormant and useless. + +Notwithstanding the various beauties and pleasures attendant upon the +accomplishment, yet there are many who have given it but a slight +portion of their attention, and have, therefore, cause to blush at their +own ignorance when necessity demands its practice. There is no better +mode by which to test the acquirements of either a young lady or +gentleman than from their letters. + +Letters are among the most useful forms of composition. There are few +persons, who can read or write at all, who do not frequently have +occasion to write them; and an elegant letter is much more rare than an +elegant specimen of any other kind of writing. + +The more rational and elevated the topics are, on which you write, the +less will you care for your letters being seen, or for paragraphs being +read out of them; and where there is no need of any secrecy, it is best +not to bind your friend by promises, but to leave it to her discretion. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +POLITE DEPORTMENT, AND GOOD HABITS. + + +Lord Chesterfield says, "Good sense and good nature suggest civility in +general; but in good breeding there are a thousand little delicacies +which are established only by custom." + +It is the knowledge and practice of such "little delicacies" which +constitutes the greatest charm of society. + +Manner may be, and, in most cases, probably is, the cloak of the heart; +this cloak may be used to cover defects, but is it not better so to +conceal these defects, than to flaunt and parade them in the eyes of all +whom we may meet? + +Many persons plead a love of truth as an apology for rough manners, as +if truth was never gentle and kind, but always harsh, morose, and +forbidding. Surely good manners and a good conscience are no more +inconsistent with each other than beauty and innocence, which are +strikingly akin, and always look the better for companionship. Roughness +and honesty are indeed sometimes found together in the same person, but +he is a poor judge of human nature who takes ill-manners to be a +guarantee of probity of character. Some persons object to politeness, +that its language is unmeaning and false. But this is easily answered. +A lie is not locked up in a phrase, but must exist, if at all, in the +mind of the speaker. In the ordinary compliments of civilized life, +there is no intention to deceive, and consequently no falsehood. Polite +language is pleasant to the ear, and soothing to the heart, while rough +words are just the reverse; and if not the product of ill temper, are +very apt to produce it. The plainest of truths, let it be remembered, +can be conveyed in civil speech, while the most malignant lies may find +utterance, and often do, in the language of the fishmarket. + +Many ladies say, "Oh, I am perfectly frank and outspoken; I never stop +to mince words," or, "there is no affectation about me; all my actions +are perfectly natural," and, upon the ground of frankness, will insult +and wound by rude language, and defend awkwardness and ill-breeding by +the plea of "natural manners." + +If nature has not invested you with all the virtues which may be +desirable in a lady, do not make your faults more conspicuous by +thrusting them forward upon all occasions, and at all times. "Assume a +virtue if you have it not," and you will, in time, by imitation, acquire +it. + +By endeavoring to _appear_ generous, disinterested, self-sacrificing, +and amiable, the opposite passions will be brought into subjection, +first in the manner, afterwards in the heart. It is not the desire to +deceive, but the desire to please, which will dictate such a course. +When you hear one, who pretends to be a lady, boast that she is rough, +capricious, and gluttonous, you may feel sure that she has never tried +to conquer these faults, or she would be ashamed, not proud, of them. + +The way to make yourself pleasing to others, is to show that you care +for them. The whole world is like the miller at Mansfield, "who cared +for nobody--no, not he--because nobody cared for him." And the whole +world will serve you so, if you give them the same cause. Let every one, +therefore, see that you do care for them, by showing them, what Sterne +so happily calls, "the small, sweet courtesies of life," those +courtesies in which there is no parade; whose voice is too still to +tease, and which manifest themselves by tender and affectionate looks, +and little, kind acts of attention, giving others the preference in +every little enjoyment at the table, in the field, walking, sitting, or +standing. + +Thus the first rule for a graceful manner is unselfish consideration of +others. + +By endeavoring to acquire the habit of politeness, it will soon become +familiar, and sit on you with ease, if not with elegance. Let it never +be forgotten, that genuine politeness is a great fosterer of family +love; it allays accidental irritation, by preventing harsh retorts and +rude contradictions; it softens the boisterous, stimulates the indolent, +suppresses selfishness, and by forming a habit of consideration for +others, harmonizes the whole. Politeness begets politeness, and brothers +may be easily won by it, to leave off the rude ways they bring home from +school or college. Sisters ought never to receive any little attention +without thanking them for it, never to ask a favor of them but in +courteous terms, never to reply to their questions in monosyllables, +and they will soon be ashamed to do such things themselves. Both +precept and example ought to be laid under contribution, to convince +them that no one can have really good manners abroad, who is not +habitually polite at home. + +If you wish to be a well-bred lady, you must carry your good manners +everywhere with you. It is not a thing that can be laid aside and put on +at pleasure. True politeness is uniform disinterestedness in trifles, +accompanied by the calm self-possession which belongs to a noble +simplicity of purpose; and this must be the effect of a Christian spirit +running through all you do, or say, or think; and, unless you cultivate +it and exercise it, upon all occasions and towards all persons, it will +never be a part of yourself. + +It is not an art to be paraded upon public occasions, and neglected in +every-day duties; nor should it, like a ball-dress, be carefully laid +aside at home, trimmed, ornamented, and worn only when out. Let it come +into every _thought_, and it will show forth in every _action_. Let it +be the rule in the homeliest duties, and then it will set easily when in +public, not in a stiff manner, like a garment seldom worn. + +I wish it were possible to convince every woman that politeness is a +most excellent good quality; that it is a necessary ingredient in social +comfort, and a capital assistant to actual prosperity. Like most good +things, however, the word politeness is often misunderstood and +misapplied; and before urging the practical use of that which it +represents, it may be necessary to say what it means, and what it does +not mean. + +Politeness is not hypocrisy:--cold-heartedness, or unkindness in +disguise. There are persons who can smile upon a victim, and talk +smoothly, while they injure, deceive, or betray. And they will take +credit to themselves, that all has been done with the utmost +_politeness_; that every tone, look, and action, has been in perfect +keeping with the rules of good breeding. "The words of their mouth are +smoother than butter, but war is in their heart: their words are softer +than oil, yet are they drawn swords." Perish for ever and ever such +spurious politeness as this! + +Politeness is not servility. If it were so, a Russian serf would be a +model of politeness. It is very possible for persons to be very cringing +and obsequious, without a single atom of politeness; and it often +happens that men of the most sturdy independence of character, are +essentially polite in all their words, actions, and feelings. It were +well for this to be fully understood, for many people will abstain from +acts of real politeness, and even of common civility, for fear of +damaging their fancied independence. + +True politeness, as I understand it, is kindness and courtesy of feeling +brought into every-day exercise. It comprehends hearty good will towards +everybody, thorough and constant good-humor, an easy deportment, and +obliging manners. Every person who cultivates such feelings, and takes +no pains to conceal them, will necessarily be polite, though she may not +exactly know it; while, on the other hand, a woman essentially morose +and selfish, whatever may be her pretensions, must be very far from +truly polite. + +It is very true there are those whose position in society compels them +to observe certain rules of etiquette which pass for politeness. They +bow or courtesy with a decent grace; shake hands with the precise degree +of vigor which the circumstances of the case require; speak just at the +right time, and in the required manner, and smile with elegant +propriety. Not a tone, look, or gesture, is out of place; not a habit +indulged which etiquette forbids; and yet, there will be wanting, after +all, the secret charm of sincerity and heart kindness, which those +outward signs are intended to represent; and, wanting which, we have +only the form, without the essence, of politeness. + +Let me recommend, therefore, far beyond all the rules ever penned by +teachers of etiquette, the cultivation of kind and loving feelings. +Throw your whole soul into the lesson, and you will advance rapidly +towards the perfection of politeness, for "out of the abundance of the +heart the mouth speaketh," and the movements of your form and the words +you utter will follow faithfully the hidden springs of action within. + +There cannot be genuine good breeding to any happy degree, where there +is not self-respect. It is that which imparts ease and confidence to our +manners, and impels us, for our own sake, as well as for the sake of +others, to behave becomingly as intelligent beings. + +It is a want of true politeness that introduces the discord and +confusion which too often make our homes unhappy. A little consideration +for the feelings of those whom we are bound to love and cherish, and a +little sacrifice of our own wills, would, in multitudes of instances, +make all the difference between alienation and growing affection. The +principle of genuine politeness would accomplish this; and what a pity +it is that those whose only spring of rational enjoyment is to be found +at _home_, should miss that enjoyment by a disregard of little things, +which, after all, make up the sum of human existence! + +What a large amount of actual discomfort in domestic life would be +prevented, if all children were trained, both by precept and example, to +the practice of common politeness! If they were taught to speak +respectfully to parents, and brothers, and sisters, to friends, +neighbors, and strangers, what bawlings, and snarlings would be stilled! +If their behavior within doors, and especially at the table, were +regulated by a few of the common rules of good breeding, how much +natural and proper disgust would be spared! If courtesy of demeanor, +towards all whom they meet in field or highway, were instilled, how much +more pleasant would be our town travels, and our rustic rambles! Every +parent has a personal interest in this matter; and if every parent would +but make the needful effort, a great degree of gross incivility, and +consequent annoyance, would soon be swept away from our hearths and +homes. + +Whilst earnestly endeavoring to acquire true politeness, avoid that +spurious imitation, affectation. It is to genuine politeness and good +breeding, what the showy paste is to the pure diamond. It is the +offspring of a sickly taste, a deceitful heart, and a sure proof of low +breeding. + +The certain test of affectation in any individual, is the looking, +speaking, moving, or acting in any way different when in the presence of +others, especially those whose opinion we regard and whose approbation +we desire, from what we should do in solitude, or in the presence of +those only whom we disregard, or who we think cannot injure or benefit +us. The motive for resisting affectation is, that it is both +unsuccessful and sinful. It always involves a degree of hypocrisy, which +is exceedingly offensive in the sight of God, which is generally +detected even by men, and which, when detected, exposes its subject to +contempt which could never have been excited by the mere absence of any +quality or possession, as it is by the false assumption of what is not +real. The best cure for affectation is the cultivation, on principle, of +every good, virtuous, and amiable habit and feeling, not for the sake of +being approved or admired, but because it is right in itself, and +without considering what people will think of it. Thus a real character +will be formed instead of a part being assumed, and admiration and love +will be spontaneously bestowed where they are really deserved. +Artificial manners are easily seen through; and the result of such +observations, however accomplished and beautiful the object may be, is +contempt for such littleness. + +Many ladies, moving, too, in good society, will affect a forward, bold +manner, very disagreeable to persons of sense. They will tell of their +wondrous feats, when engaged in pursuits only suited for men; they will +converse in a loud, boisterous tone; laugh loudly; sing comic songs, or +dashing bravuras in a style only fit for the stage or a gentleman's +after-dinner party; they will lay wagers, give broad hints and then +brag of their success in forcing invitations or presents; interlard +their conversation with slang words or phrases suited only to the stable +or bar-room, and this they think is a dashing, fascinating manner. It +may be encouraged, admired, in their presence, by gentlemen, and +imitated by younger ladies, but, be sure, it is looked upon with +contempt, and disapproval by every one of good sense, and that to +persons of real refinement it is absolutely disgusting. + +Other ladies, taking quite as mistaken a view of real refinement, will +affect the most childish timidity, converse only in whispers, move +slowly as an invalid, faint at the shortest notice, and on the slightest +provocation; be easily moved to tears, and profess never to eat, drink, +or sleep. This course is as absurd as the other, and much more +troublesome, as everybody dreads the scene which will follow any shock +to the dear creature's nerves, and will be careful to avoid any +dangerous topics. + +Self-respect, and a proper deference for our superiors in age or +intellect, will be the best safeguards against either a cringing or +insolent manner. + +Without self-respect you will be apt to be both awkward and bashful; +either of which faults are entirely inconsistent with a graceful manner. +Be careful that while you have sufficient self-respect to make your +manner easy, it does not become arrogance and so engender insolence. +Avoid sarcasm; it will, unconsciously to yourself, degenerate into +pertness, and often downright rudeness. Do not be afraid to speak +candidly, but temper candor with courtesy, and never let wit run into +that satire that will wound deeply, whilst it amuses only slightly. + +Let your carriage be at once dignified and graceful. There are but few +figures that will bear quick motion; with almost every one its effect is +that of a jerk, a most awkward movement. Let the feet, in walking or +dancing, be turned out slightly; when you are seated, rest them both on +the floor or a footstool. To sit with the knees or feet crossed or +doubled up, is awkward and unlady-like. Carry your arms, in walking, +easily; never crossing them stiffly or swinging them beside you. When +seated, if you are not sewing or knitting, keep your hands perfectly +quiet. This, whilst one of the most difficult accomplishments to attain, +is the surest mark of a lady. Do not fidget, playing with your rings, +brooch, or any little article that may be near you; let your hands rest +in an easy, natural position, perfectly quiet. + +Never gesticulate when conversing; it looks theatrical, and is ill-bred; +so are all contortions of the features, shrugging of shoulders, raising +of the eyebrows, or hands. + +When you open a conversation, do so with a slight bow and smile, but be +careful not to simper, and not to smile too often, if the conversation +becomes serious. + +Never point. It is excessively ill-bred. + +Avoid exclamations; they are in excessively bad taste, and are apt to be +vulgar words. A lady may express as much polite surprise or concern by a +few simple, earnest words, or in her manner, as she can by exclaiming +"Good gracious!" "Mercy!" or "Dear me!" + +Remember that every part of your person and dress should be in perfect +order before you leave the dressing-room, and avoid all such tricks as +smoothing your hair with your hand, arranging your curls, pulling the +waist of your dress down, or settling your collar or sleeves. + +Avoid lounging attitudes, they are indelicate, except in your own +private apartment. Nothing but ill health will excuse them before +company, and a lady had better keep her room if she is too feeble to sit +up in the drawing-room. + +Let your deportment suit your age and figure; to see a tiny, fairy-like +young girl, marching erect, stiff, and awkwardly, like a soldier on +parade, is not more absurd than to see a middle-aged, portly woman, +aping the romping, hoydenish manners of a school-girl. + +Let the movements be easy and flexible, and accord with the style of the +lady. + +Let your demeanor be always marked by modesty and simplicity; as soon as +you become forward or affected, you have lost your greatest charm of +manner. + +You should be quite as anxious to _talk_ with propriety as you are to +think, work, sing, paint, or write, according to the most correct rules. + +Always select words calculated to convey an exact impression of your +meaning. + +Let your articulation be easy, clear, correct in accent, and suited in +tone and emphasis to your discourse. + +Avoid a muttering, mouthing, stuttering, droning, guttural, nasal, or +lisping, pronunciation. + +Let your speech be neither too loud nor too low; but adjusted to the ear +of your companion. Try to prevent the necessity of any person crying, +"What? What?" + +Avoid a loquacious propensity; you should never occupy more than your +share of the time, or more than is agreeable to others. + +Beware of such vulgar interpolations as "You know," "You see," "I'll +tell you what." + +Pay a strict regard to the rules of grammar, even in private +conversation. If you do not understand these rules, learn them, whatever +be your age or station. + +Though you should always speak pleasantly, do not mix your conversation +with loud bursts of laughter. + +Never indulge in uncommon words, or in Latin and French phrases, but +choose the best understood terms to express your meaning. + +Above all, let your conversation be intellectual, graceful, chaste, +discreet, edifying, and profitable. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +CONDUCT IN CHURCH. + + +In entering a church of a different denomination from the one you have +been in the habit of frequenting, ask the sexton to show you to a seat. +It is the height of rudeness to enter a pew without invitation, as the +owner may desire, if her family do not require all the seats, to invite +her own personal friends to take the vacant places. If you are not +perfectly familiar with the manner of conducting the worship, observe +those around you, rise, kneel, and sit, as you see they do. It is a mark +of disrespect for the pastor as well as irreverence for the Most High, +to remain seated through the whole service, unless you are ill, or +otherwise incapacitated from standing and kneeling. + +Enter the sacred edifice slowly, reverentially, and take your seat +quietly. It is not required of you to bow to any friend you may see in +passing up the aisle, as you are supposed yourself to be, and suppose +her to be entirely absorbed in thought proper for the occasion. To stare +round the church, or if you are not alone, to whisper to your companion, +is irreverent, indelicate, and rude. If your own feelings will not +prompt you to silence and reverence, pay some regard to the feelings of +others. + +Be careful not to appear to notice those around you. If others are so +rude as to talk or conduct improperly, fix your own mind upon the +worship which you come to pay, and let the impertinence pass unheeded. + +If there is another person in the same pew with yourself, who, more +familiar with the service, hands you the book, or points out the place, +acknowledge the civility by a silent bow; it is not necessary to speak. + +In your own pew, extend this courtesy to a stranger who may come in +beside you, and even if it is a gentleman you may, with perfect +propriety, hand him a book, or, if there is but one, offer him a share +of your own. + +Endeavor always to be in your seat before the service commences, and +after it is over do not hurry away, and, above all, do not begin your +preparations for departure, by shutting up your book, or putting on any +article of dress you have removed, before the benediction. + +If you are invited to accompany a friend to church, be sure you are +ready in good season, that you may not keep her waiting when she calls, +or cause her to lose any part of the service by detaining her at your +house. If you invite a friend to take a seat in your pew, call for her +early, give her the most comfortable place, and be sure she has a prayer +and hymn-book. + +If you are invited to stand as god-mother to a friend's child, be at the +house of the parents in season to accompany the family to church, and +send, the day before, the gift you design for the babe. A silver cup is +the usual present, with your little namesake's initials, or full name, +engraved upon it. + +In assisting at a wedding at church, if you are one of the bridesmaids, +wear white, a white bonnet but no veil. If you occupy the first place, +the bride's, it is in better taste to be married in a simple dress and +bonnet, and don your full dress when you return home to receive your +friends. In such ceremonies the wedding-party all meet in the vestry, +and go to the altar together.[A] + +[A] For further particulars, see chapter on Bridal Etiquette. + +At a funeral, enter the church quietly, and, unless you belong to the +mourners, wait until they leave the church before you rise from your +seat. Never attempt to speak to any of the afflicted family. However +heartfelt your sympathy, it will not be welcome at that time. + +If, when entering a crowded church, a gentleman sees you and offers his +seat, acknowledge his civility, whether accepted or declined, by a bow, +and a whispered "thank you." Many, who claim the name of lady, and think +they are well-bred, will accept such an act of politeness without making +the slightest acknowledgement. If the service has commenced, do not +speak; a courteous inclination of the head will convey your sense of +obligation. + +Remember, as an imperative, general rule, in whatever church you may be, +whether at home or abroad, conform to the mode of worship whilst you are +in that church. If you find, in these modes, forms which are +disagreeable to you, or which shock your own ideas of religion, avoid a +second visit, but do not insult the congregation, by showing your +contempt or disapproval, whilst you are among them. Silence, quiet +attention, and a grave, reverential demeanor, mark the Christian lady in +church. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +BALL ROOM ETIQUETTE. + +FOR THE HOSTESS. + + +When you have decided upon what evening you will give your ball, send +out your invitations, a fortnight before the evening appointed. To +ladies, word them:-- + + Mrs. L---- requests the pleasure of Miss G----'s company on + Wednesday evening, Jan. 17th, at 9 o'clock. + + _Dancing._ + + The favor of an early answer is requested. + +To gentlemen:-- + + Mrs. L----'s compliments to Mr. R---- for Wednesday evening, + Jan. 17th, at 9 o'clock. + + _Dancing._ + + The favor of an early answer is requested. + +If you are unmarried, put your mother's name with your own upon the +cards. If you have a father or grown-up brother, let the invitations to +the gentlemen go in his name. + +In making your list for a ball, do not set down _all_ of your "dear +five hundred friends." The middle-aged, (unless they come as chaperons,) +the serious, and the sober-minded, will not accept your invitation, and +the two last named may consider it insulting to be invited to so +frivolous an amusement. By the way, I do not agree with the +straight-laced people, who condemn all such amusements. I agree with +Madame Pilau. When the cure of her parish told her he was writing a +series of sermons against dancing, she said to him: + +"You are talking of what you do not understand. _You_ have never been to +a ball, _I_ have; and I assure you there is no sin in the matter worthy +of mention or notice." + +If you really wish for dancing, you will accommodate your guests to your +rooms, inviting one third more than they will hold, as about that number +generally disappoint a ball-giver. If you wish to have a rush of people, +and do not mind heat, crowding, and discomfort, to insure an immense +assembly, (a ball to be talked about for its size only,) then you may +invite every body who figures upon your visiting list. + +Over one hundred is a "large ball," under that a "ball," unless there +are less than fifty guests, when it is merely a "dance." + +The directions given in chapter 5th for the arrangement of the +dressing-rooms will apply here, but your parlor, or ball room, requires +some attention. Have the carpets taken up two days before the evening of +the ball, and the floor waxed. A smooth, polished floor is an absolute +necessity for pleasant dancing. At one end of your ball room, have a +space partitioned off for the musicians. Leave, for their use, plenty of +room, as silence or discord will come from a crowded orchestra. If your +house is double, and you use the rooms on each side, place the musicians +in the hall. + +Four pieces of music is enough for a private ball, unless your rooms are +very large. For one room a piano, violin, and violoncello makes a good +band. + +You must have your rooms well ventilated if you wish to avoid fainting +and discomfort. + +To secure a really brilliant ball, pay considerable attention to the +arrangement of your ball room. In Paris this arrangement consists in +turning the room, for the evening, into a perfect garden. Every corner +is filled with flowers. Wreaths, bouquets, baskets, and flowering-plants +in moss-covered pots. With brilliant light, and taste in the details of +arranging them, this profusion of flowers produces an exquisitely +beautiful effect, and harmonizes perfectly with the light dresses, +cheerful faces, and gay music. The pleasure of your guests, as well as +the beauty of the rooms, will be increased by the elegance of your +arrangements; their beauty will be heightened by brilliant light, and by +judicious management a scene of fairy-like illusion may be produced. + +Not only in the ball room itself, but in the hall, supper-room, and +dressing-rooms, place flowers. A fine effect is produced, by placing a +screen, covered with green and flowers, before the space set apart for +the musicians. To hear the music proceeding from behind this floral +embankment, and yet have the scraping and puffing men invisible, adds +very much to the illusion of the scene. + +In the dressing-rooms have, at least, two servants for each. Let them +take the cloaks and hoods, and put a numbered ticket upon each bundle, +handing the duplicate number to the lady or gentleman owning it. + +It is best to have the supper-room upon the same floor as the ball room. +The light dresses, worn upon such occasions, suffer severely in passing +up and down a crowded staircase. + +Have a number of double cards written or printed with a list of the +dances, arranged in order, upon one side, and a space for engagements +upon the other. Attach a small pencil to each. Let a waiter stand at the +entrance to the ball room, and hand a card to each guest as they pass +in. + +The first strain of music must be a march; then follows a quadrille, +then a waltz. Other dances follow in any order you prefer until the +fourteenth, which should be the march which announces supper. If you +throw open the supper-room, early, and the guests go out when they wish, +the march may be omitted. Twenty-one to twenty-four dances are +sufficient. Have an interval of ten minutes after each one. + +The supper-room should be thrown open at midnight, and remain open until +your last guest has departed. Let it be brilliantly lighted, and have +plenty of waiters in attendance. + +There can be no rule laid down for the supper. It may be hot or heavily +iced. It may consist entirely of confectionary, or it may include the +bill of fare for a hotel table. One rule you must observe; have +abundance of everything. Other entertainments may be given upon +economical principles, but a ball cannot. Light, attendance, supper, +every detail must be carefully attended to, and a ball must be an +expensive luxury. + +At a ball-supper every one stands up. The waiters will hand refreshment +from the tables to the gentlemen, who, in turn, wait upon the ladies. + +You must bring forth your whole array of smiles, when you perform the +part of hostess in a ball room. As your guests will come dropping in at +all hours, you must hover near the door to greet each one entering. +There will be many strangers amongst the gentlemen. Miss G. will bring +her fiancee. Miss L., her brother, just returned, after ten years' +absence, from India. Miss R. introduces her cousin, in the city for a +week. Miss M., as a belle, will, perhaps, take the liberty of telling +some ten or twelve of her most devoted admirers where she may be seen on +the evening of your ball, and, though strangers, they will, one after +another, bow over your hand. To each and every one you must extend the +amiable greeting due to an invited guest. If you are the only lady of +the house, your duties will, indeed, be laborious. You must be +everywhere at the same moment. Not a guest must pass unwelcomed. You +must introduce partners to all the wall-flowers. You must see that every +set is made up before the music commences. Each guest must be introduced +to a proper partner for every dance, and not one frown, one pettish +word, one look of fatigue, one sigh of utter weariness must disturb your +smiling serenity. You must be ready to chat cheerfully with every bore +who detains you, when crossing the room, to make up a set of quadrilles +in a minute's time; listen patiently to the sighing lover, whose fair +one is engaged fifty times during twenty dances; secure a good dancer +for each longing belle; do the same for the beaux; yet you must never be +hurried, worried, or fatigued. + +If there are several ladies, a mother and two or three daughters, for +instance, divide the duties. Let one receive the guests, another arrange +the sets, a third introduce couples, and a fourth pair off the talkers. +A brother or father will be a treasure in a ball room, as the standing +of sets can be better managed by a gentleman than a lady. + +None of the ladies who give the ball should dance until every fair guest +has a partner. + +One of your duties will be to see that no young ladies lose their supper +for want of an escort to ask them to go out. You may give the hint to an +intimate gentleman friend, if there is no brother or father to take the +duty, introduce him to the disconsolate damsel, and send her off happy. +If all the guests go to the supper-room when it is first thrown open, +you must be the last to leave the ball room. For the hostess to take the +lead to the supper-room, leaving her guests to pair off, and follow as +they please, is in very bad taste. + +If you announce supper by a march, many of your guests will remain in +the ball room, to promenade, avoid the crowd at the first table, and +indulge in a tete-a-tete conversation. These will afterwards go out, in +pairs, when the first crush in the refreshment-room is over. + +If, by accident or negligence, you miss an introduction to any of your +gentlemen guests, you may still speak to them if you wish. It is your +privilege as hostess to introduce yourself, and invite any gentleman to +dance with you, or offer to introduce him to a partner. In the latter +case he ought to mention his name, but if he omits to do so, you may ask +it. + +There has been a custom introduced in some of our large cities lately, +which is an admirable one for a private ball. It is to hire, for the +evening, a public hall. This includes the dressing-room, supper-room, +every comfort, and saves you from the thousand annoyances which are +certain to follow a ball in a private house. You hire the hall and other +rooms, the price including light, hire a band of music, and order a +supper at a confectioners, hiring from his establishment all the china, +glass, and silver you will want. In this case you must enclose in every +invitation a ticket to admit your friend's party, to prevent loungers +from the street coming in, uninvited. + +You will, perhaps, find the actual outlay of money greater, when you +thus hire your ball room, but you will save more than the difference in +labor, annoyance, and the injury to your house. You secure a better room +than any parlor, you have the floor waxed and polished without the +trouble of taking up your carpets. You save all the dreadful labor of +cleaning up the house the next day, as well as that of preparation. + +You can, if you wish, invite a few friends to a late dinner with you, +and all proceed to the ball room together. You must be the first to +enter the room, the last to leave it, and every duty is the same as if +you were at home; the ball room is, in fact, your own house, for the +evening. + +If you wish your guests to come in costume for a fancy ball, name the +character of the entertainment in your invitation. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +BALL ROOM ETIQUETTE. + +FOR THE GUEST. + + +As in every other case where hospitality is extended to you by +invitation, you must send your answer as soon as possible, accepting or +declining the civility. + +In preparing a costume for a ball, choose something very light. Heavy, +dark silks are out of place in a ball room, and black should be worn in +no material but lace. For a married lady, rich silk of some light color, +trimmed with flowers, lace, or tulle; white silk plain, or lace over +satin, make an exquisite toilette. Jewels are perfectly appropriate; +also feathers in the _coiffure_. + +For the young lady, pure white or light colors should be worn, and the +most appropriate dress is of some thin material made over silk, white, +or the same color as the outer dress. Satin or velvet are entirely out +of place on a young lady. Let the _coiffure_ be of flowers or ribbons, +never feathers, and but very little jewelry is becoming to an unmarried +lady. All ladies must wear boots or slippers of satin, white, black, or +the color of the dress. White are the most appropriate; black, the most +becoming to the foot. White kid gloves, full trimmed, a fine lace +trimmed handkerchief, and a fan, are indispensable. Be very careful, +when dressing for a ball, that the hair is firmly fastened, and the +_coiffure_ properly adjusted. Nothing is more annoying than to have the +hair loosen or the head-dress fall off in a crowded ball room. + +Your first duty, upon entering the room, is to speak to your hostess. +After a few words of greeting, turn to the other guests. + +At a private ball, no lady will refuse an introduction to a gentleman. +It is an insult to her hostess, implying that her guests are _not +gentlemen_. It is optional with the lady whether to continue or drop the +acquaintance after the ball is over, but for that evening, however +disagreeable, etiquette requires her to accept him for _one_ dance, if +she is disengaged, and her hostess requests it. At a public ball, it is +safest to decline all introductions made by the master of ceremonies, +though, as before, such acquaintances are not binding after the evening +is over. + +Be very careful how you refuse to dance with a gentleman. A prior +engagement will, of course, excuse you, but if you plead fatigue, or +really feel it, do not dance the set with another gentleman; it is most +insulting, though sometimes done. On the other hand, be careful that you +do not engage yourself twice for the same quadrille. In a polka or +valse, you may do this, saying, "I will dance the second half with you, +but have a prior engagement for the first." Then, after a few rounds +with your first partner, say to him that you are engaged for the +remainder of the dance, resume your seat, and your second partner will +seek you. + +Let your manner in a ball room be quiet. It looks very badly to see a +lady endeavoring to attract attention by her boisterous manner, loud +talking, or over-active dancing. Do not drag through dances as if you +found them wearisome; it is an insult to your partner, but while you are +cheerful and animated, be lady-like and dignified in your deportment. + +At the end of each dance, your partner will offer his arm, and conduct +you to a seat; then bow, and release him from further attendance, as he +may be engaged for the next dance. + +When invited to dance, hand your ball card to the gentleman, who will +put his name in one of the vacant places. + +If you wish to go to the supper-room, accept the invitation that will be +made, after the dances whilst it is open, but do not remain there long. +You may be keeping your escort from other engagements. + +If you are accompanied by a gentleman, besides your father or brother, +remember he has the right to the first dance, and also will expect to +take you in to supper. Do not let any one else interfere with his +privilege. + +If you wish, during the evening, to go to the dressing-room to arrange +any part of your dress, request the gentleman with whom you are dancing +to escort you there. He will wait for you at the door, and take you back +to the ball-room. Do not detain him any longer than is necessary. Never +leave the ball room, for any such purpose, alone, as there are always +gentlemen near and round the door, and it looks very badly to see a +lady, unattended, going through a crowd of gentlemen. + +It is best at a ball, to dance only every other dance, as over-fatigue, +and probably a flushed face, will follow too much dancing. Decline the +intermediate ones, on the plea of fatigue, or fear of fatigue. + +Never go into the supper-room with the same gentleman twice. You may go +more than once, if you wish for an ice or glass of water, (surely no +lady wants two or three _suppers_,) but do not tax the same gentleman +more than once, even if he invites you after each dance. + +No lady of taste will carry on a flirtation in a ball room, so as to +attract remark. Be careful, unless you wish your name coupled with his, +how you dance too often with the same gentleman. + +If you are so unfortunate as, forgetting a prior engagement, to engage +yourself to two gentlemen for the same dance, decline dancing it +altogether, or you will surely offend one of them. + +Never press forward to take the lead in a quadrille, and if others, not +understanding the figures, make confusion, try to get through without +remark. It is useless to attempt to teach them, as the music, and other +sets, will finish the figure long before you can teach and dance it. +Keep your temper, refrain from all remark, and endeavor to make your +partner forget, in your cheerful conversation, the annoyances of the +dance. + +There is much that is exhilarating in the atmosphere of a ball room. The +light, music, company, and even dancing itself, are all conducive to +high spirits; be careful that this flow of spirits does not lead you +into hoydenism and rudeness. Guard your actions and your tongue, that +you may leave the room as quietly and gracefully as you enter it. + +Avoid confidential conversation in a ball room. It is out of season, and +in excessively bad taste. + +Be modest and reserved, but avoid bashfulness. It looks like a +school-girl, and is invariably awkward. + +Never allow your partner, though he may be your most intimate friend, to +converse in a low tone, or in any way assume a confidential or +lover-like air at a ball. It is in excessively bad taste, and gives +annoyance frequently, as others suppose such low-toned remarks may refer +to them. + +Dance as others do. It has a very absurd look to take every step with +dancing-school accuracy, and your partner will be the first one to +notice it. A quadrille takes no more steps than a graceful walk. + +Never stand up to dance in a quadrille, unless you are perfectly +familiar with the figures, depending upon your partner to lead you +through. You will probably cause utter confusion in the set, annoy the +others forming it, and make yourself appear absurd. + +No young lady should go to a ball, without the protection of a married +lady, or an elderly gentleman. + +Never cross a ball room alone. + +Never remain in a ball room until all the company have left it, or even +until the last set. It is ill-bred, and looks as if you were +unaccustomed to such pleasures, and so desirous to prolong each one. +Leave while there are still two or three sets to be danced. Do not +accept any invitation for these late dances, as the gentleman who +invites you may find out your absence too late to take another partner, +and you will thus deprive him of the pleasure of dancing. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +PLACES OF AMUSEMENT. + + +Do not accept an invitation to visit any place of public amusement, with +a gentleman with whom you are but slightly acquainted, unless there is +another lady also invited. You may, as a young lady, go with a relative +or your fiancee, without a chaperon, but not otherwise. + +Having received an invitation which it is proper for you to accept, +write an answer immediately, appointing an hour for your escort to call +for you, and be sure that you are ready in good season. To arrive late +is not only annoying to those near your seat, whom you disturb when you +enter, but it is ill-bred; you will be supposed to be some one who is +unable to come early, instead of appearing as a lady who is mistress of +her own time. + +If the evening is cloudy, or it rains, your escort will probably bring a +carriage; and let me say a few words here about entering and leaving a +carriage. + +How to get in is difficult, but of less importance than getting out; +because if you stumble in, no one sees you, but some one who may happen +to be in the carriage; but how to get out is so important, that I will +illustrate it by a short diplomatic anecdote:-- + +"The Princess of Hesse-Darmstadt," says M. Mercy d'Argenteau, an +ambassador of the last century, "having been desired by the Empress of +Austria to bring her three daughters to court, in order that her +Imperial Majesty might choose one of them for a wife to one of her sons, +drove up in her coach to the palace gate. Scarcely had they entered the +presence, when, before even speaking to them, the empress went up to the +second daughter, and, taking her by the hand, said, 'I choose this young +lady.' The mother, astonished at the suddenness of her choice, inquired +what had actuated it. 'I watched the young ladies get out of their +carriage,' said the empress. 'Your eldest daughter stepped on her dress, +and only saved herself from falling by an awkward scramble; the youngest +jumped from the coach to the ground, without touching the steps; the +second, just lifting her dress in front, so as she descended to show the +point of her shoe, calmly stepped from the carriage to the ground, +neither hurriedly nor stiffly, but with grace and dignity: she is fit to +be an empress; her eldest sister is too awkward, her youngest too +wild.'" + +THE THEATRE--Here you must wear your bonnet, though you may throw aside +your cloak or shawl, if you desire it. Your escort will pass to your +seats first, and then turn and offer his hand to lead you to your own. +Once seated, give your attention entirely to the actors whilst the +curtain is up--to your companion when it is down. + +Do not look round the house with your glass. A lady's deportment should +be very modest in a theatre. Avoid carefully every motion, or gesture +that will attract attention. To flirt a fan, converse in whispers, +indulge in extravagant gestures of merriment or admiration, laugh loudly +or clap your hands together, are all excessively vulgar and unlady-like. +Never turn your head to look at those seated behind you, or near you. + +If you speak to your companion while the curtain is up, lower your +voice, that you may not disturb others interested in the conversation on +the stage. + +THE OPERA--Here you should wear full dress, an opera cloak, and either a +head-dress, or dressy bonnet of some thin material. Your gloves must be +of kid, white, or some very light tint to suit your dress. Many dress +for the opera as they would for the theatre; but the beauty of the house +is much enhanced by each lady contributing her full dress toilette to +the general effect. + +If you go to the dressing-room, leave your hood and shawl in the care of +the woman in waiting, whom you must fee when she returns them to you. + +If you do not wish to go to the dressing-room, allow your escort to take +off your shawl or cloak, and throw it over the back of the seat. As your +opera cloak must be light enough to keep on all the evening, though you +may throw it open, you must wear over it a heavier cloak or a shawl. +Throw this off in the lobby, just before you enter your box. Your gloves +you must keep on all the evening. + +Avoid handling the play bills, as the printing ink will soil your gloves +in a few minutes, making your hands appear very badly for the rest of +the evening. + +You should be in your seat at the opera before the overture commences. + +Never converse during the performance. Even the lowest toned remark +will disturb a real lover of music, and these will be near you on all +sides. Exclamations of admiration, "Exquisite!" "Beautiful!" or +"Lovely!" are in the worst taste. Show your appreciation by quiet +attention to every note, and avoid every exclamation or gesture. + +In our new opera houses there are rooms for promenade, and between the +acts your escort may invite you to walk there. You may accept the +invitation with perfect propriety. He will leave the box first and then +offer his hand to you. In the lobby take his arm, and keep it until you +return to the box. If you have taken your cloak or shawl to your seat, +leave them there during your promenade. Return to your seat when the +gong sounds the recall, that you may not disturb others after the next +act commences. + +In walking up and down in the promenading saloon, you may pass and +repass friends. Bow the first time you meet them, but not again. + +If you meet your gentlemen friends there, bow, but do not stop to speak. +They may join you for once round the room, then allow them to leave you. +Your escort will feel justly offended if you allow any other gentlemen +to engross your attention entirely when he has invited you to the +entertainment. + +CONCERTS--Here, as at the opera, you may wear a bonnet or not, as you +will. Go early to the hall, unless you have secured a seat, and then, be +in time for the first song. If you are unavoidably late, enter quietly, +and take a seat near the door. It is very rude to push forward to the +front of the hall, and either crowd those upon the benches, or force +some gentleman to offer you his place. If the hall is so crowded that +even the back seats are full, and a gentleman offers you his place, you +should thank him before accepting it. + +Again, I repeat, do not converse, or disturb those around you by +exclamations or gesticulations. + +LECTURES--Two ladies may attend a lecture, unaccompanied by a gentleman, +without attracting attention. + +The dress, bonnet, and cloak, worn in the street, should be worn in a +lecture-room, as these are, by no means, occasions for full dress. + +If you return at an early hour from any place of amusement, invite your +escort into the house upon your arrival there, and lay aside your bonnet +and shawl. If you keep them on, he will conclude that you expect him to +shorten his visit. If it is late when you reach home, he will probably +decline your invitation to enter. If, however, he accepts it, do not lay +aside your shawl, and he will soon leave you. + +If he asks permission to call in the morning, you must, unless prevented +by an imperative engagement, remain at home to see him. + +Upon your way home from the theatre, concert, or opera, speak warmly of +the pleasure of the evening, and, at parting, thank him for that +pleasure. Show by your manner that you have heartily enjoyed the +entertainment you owe to his civility. If you are weary, do not allow +him to see it. If disappointed, conceal that also. You will be able to +find _some_ good points in the performance; speak of these and ignore +the bad ones. + +If at the theatre, opera, or in a concert-room, you see an +acquaintance, you are not expected to recognize her, unless near enough +to speak. A lady must not bow to any one, even her own sister, across a +theatre or concert-room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +ACCOMPLISHMENTS. + + +In the present age, when education is within the reach of all, both rich +and poor, every lady will endeavor to become, not only well educated, +but accomplished. It is not, as some will assert, a waste of time or +money. Not only the fingers, voice, and figure are improved, but the +heart and intellect will become refined, and the happiness greatly +increased. + +Take the young lady after a solid basis has been laid in her mind of the +more important branches of education, and rear upon that basis the +structure of lighter education--the accomplishments. To cultivate these, +disregarding the more solid information, is to build your castle without +any foundation, and make it, not only absurd, but unsteady. The pleasure +of hearing from a lady a _cavatina_ executed in the most finished +manner, will be entirely destroyed, if her first spoken words after the +performance are vulgar, or her sentence ungrammatical. + +A lady without her piano, or her pencil, her library of French, German, +or Italian authors, her fancy work and tasteful embroideries, is now +rarely met with, and it is right that such arts should be universal. No +woman is fitted for society until she dances well; for home, unless she +is perfect mistress of needlework; for her own enjoyment, unless she has +at least one accomplishment to occupy thoughts and fingers in her hours +of leisure. + +First upon the list of accomplishments, comes the art of conversing +well. It is always ready. Circumstances in society will constantly throw +you into positions where you can use no other accomplishment. You will +not have a musical instrument within reach, singing would be out of +place, your fancy work at home, on many occasions, and then you can +exert your most fascinating as well as useful accomplishment, the art of +conversing well. + +Little culture, unfortunately, is bestowed upon this accomplishment, +which, beyond all others, promotes the happiness of home, enlivens +society, and improves the minds of both speaker and listener. How many +excellent women are deficient in the power of expressing themselves +well, or, indeed, of expressing themselves at all! How many minds "cream +and mantle" from the want of energy to pour themselves out in words! On +the other hand, how some, equally well-intentioned, drown the very +senses in their torrent of remarks, which dashes, like a water-fall, +into a sombre pool of _ennui_ below! + +One lady will enter society, well-dressed, well-looking, polite; she +does not intend to chill it by her presence; yet her absence is found a +relief. She takes her place as if she considered it sufficient to dress +and look well. She brings no stock to the community of ideas. Her eyes +return no response to the discourse which is going on. When you have +once glanced at her, she becomes a mere expletive in the company. + +Another one will be found a talker. She is like a canary bird; when +others begin to speak, she hurries in her remarks, in an accompaniment. +Her voice must be uppermost; conversation becomes a contest who can +speak the most rapidly. The timid and modest retire from the +encounter--she has the field to herself. She goes on, without mercy; the +voice of a syren would fatigue, if heard continually. Others revolt at +the injustice of the monopoly, and the words fall on ears that would be +deaf if they could. + +These are extreme cases; there are many other minor errors. The higher +qualities of conversation must undoubtedly be based upon the higher +qualities of the mind; then it is, indeed, a privilege to commune with +others. + +To acquire the power of thus imparting the highest pleasure by +conversational powers, attention must be paid to literature. I am +supposing the solid foundation of a good education already laid, but by +literature, I do not mean only that class of it which is taught at +school. + +Reading, at the present day, is too much confined to light literature. I +would not speak against this. The modern novels, and the poets of all +ages, are good reading, but let them be taken in moderation, and varied +by something more solid. Let them be the dessert to the more substantial +_dinner_ of history, travels, and works of a like nature. + +Independent of the strength and polish given to the mind by a thorough +course of reading, there is another reason why a lady should devote some +portion of her time to it; she cannot do without it. She may, lacking +this, pass through life respectably, even elegantly; but she cannot take +her part in a communing with superior minds; she may enjoy, in +wondering, the radiance of their intelligence; but the wondering must be +composed, in part, of amazement at her own folly, in not having herself +sought out the treasure concealed in the fathomless depths of books. She +cannot truly enjoy society, with this art neglected. She may, for a few +brief years, be the ornament of the drawing-room; but it must be, like +many other ornaments there, in still life; she can never be the +companion of the intellectual; and the time is gone by, when women, with +all their energies excited, will be contented to be the mere plaything +of brother, husband, or father. + +Still it is not to the erudite, nor to the imaginative only, that it is +given to please in conversation. + +The art of imparting our ideas easily and elegantly to others, may be +improved by ourselves, if there are opportunities of mingling in good +society, with little study. The mind must first be cultivated; but it +should not abash those who are conscious of moderate talents, or +imperfect cultivation, from taking a due part in conversation, on +account of their inferiority. It is a very different thing to shine and +to please; to shine in society is more frequently attempted than +compassed: to please is in the power of all. The effort to shine, when +fruitless, brings a certain disgrace, and engenders mortification; all +good people are inclined to take the will for the deed, when they see a +desire to please. A gentle, deferential, kind manner, will disarm even +the most discerning from criticising too severely the deficiencies of +the inexperienced; confidence, disrespect of others, volubility, +eagerness to dispute, must irritate the self-love of others, and produce +an averseness to acknowledge talent or information, where they may even +happen to exist. + +It is wiser and safer for a young lady, in general, to observe the good, +old-fashioned rule of being addressed first; but then she must receive +the address readily, meeting it half way, repaying it by enlarging a +little upon the topic thus selected, and not sinking into a dull +silence, the moment after a reply is given. Some young ladies start, as +if thunderstruck, when spoken to, and stare as if the person who pays +them that attention, had no right to awaken them from their reverie. +Others look affronted, possibly from shyness, and begin a derogatory +attack upon the beauty of their dress by twitching the front breadth--or +move from side to side, in evident distress and consternation. Time +remedies these defects; but there is one less curable and less +endurable--that of pertness and flippancy--the loud remarks and +exclamations--the look of self-sufficiency and confidence. But these +offensive manifestations spring from some previous and deep-seated +defects of character, and are only to be repelled by what, I fear, they +will frequently encounter--the mortification of inspiring disgust. + +Neither is the lengthy, prosy, didactic reply, consistent with the +submission and simplicity of youth; egotism, and egotism once removed, +that is, the bringing into the topic one's own family and relations, are +also antidotes to the true spirit of conversation. In general, it is +wiser, more in good taste, safer, more becoming, certainly more in +accordance with good breeding, to avoid talking of persons. There are +many snares in such topics; not merely the danger of calumniating, but +that of engendering a slippery conscience in matters of fact. A young +girl, shy and inexpert, states a circumstance; she feels her deficiency +as a narrator, for the power of telling a story, is a power to be +acquired only by practice. She is sometimes tempted to heighten a little +the incidents, in order to get on a little better, and to make more +impression. She must of course defend her positions, and then she perils +the sanctity of truth. Besides, few things narrow the intellect more +than dwelling on the peculiarities, natural or incidental, of that small +coterie of persons who constitute our world. + +It is, in general, a wise rule, and one which will tend much to insure +your comfort through life, to avoid disclosures to others of family +affairs. I do not mean to recommend reserve, or art; to friends and +relations, too great frankness can hardly be practised; but, with +acquaintance, the less our own circumstances are discussed, the happier, +and the more dignified will our commerce with them continue. On the same +principle, let the concerns of others be touched upon with delicacy, or, +if possible, passed over in silence; more especially those details which +relate to strictly personal or family affairs. Public deeds are, of +course, public property. But personal affairs are private; and there is +a want of true good breeding, a want of consideration and deference, in +speaking freely of them, even if your friend is unconscious of the +liberty taken. + +It seems paradoxical to observe that the art of listening well forms a +part of the duty of conversation. To give up the whole of your attention +to the person who addresses himself to you, is sometimes a heavy tax, +but it is one which we must pay for the privileges of social life, and +an early practice will render it an almost involuntary act of good +breeding; whilst consideration for others will give this little +sacrifice a merit and a charm. + +To listen well is to make an unconscious advance in the power of +conversing. In listening we perceive in what the interest, in what the +failure of others consists; we become, too, aware of our own +deficiencies, without having them taught through the medium of +humiliation. We find ourselves often more ignorant than we could have +supposed possible. We learn, by a very moderate attention to the sort of +topics which please, to form a style of our own. The "art of +conversation" is an unpleasant phrase. The power of conversing well is +least agreeable when it assumes the character of an _art_. + +In listening, a well-bred lady will gently sympathize with the speaker; +or, if needs must be, differ, as gently. Much character is shown in the +act of listening. Some people appear to be in a violent hurry whilst +another speaks; they hasten on the person who addresses them, as one +would urge on a horse--with incessant "Yes, yes, very good--indeed-- +proceed!" Others sit, on the full stare, eyes fixed as those of an owl, +upon the speaker. Others will receive every observation with a little +hysterical giggle. + +But all these vices of manner may be avoided by a gentle attention and +a certain calm dignity of manner, based upon a reflective, cultivated +mind. + +Observation, reading, and study, will form the groundwork for good +powers of conversation, and the more you read, study, and see, the more +varied and interesting will be your topics. + +A young lady should consider music as one branch of her education, +inferior, in importance, to most of those studies which are pointed out +to her, but attainable in a sufficient degree by the aid of time, +perseverance, and a moderate degree of instruction. Begun early, and +pursued steadily, there is ample leisure in youth for the attainment of +a science, which confers more cheerfulness, and brings more pleasure +than can readily be conceived. + +A young lady should be able to play with taste, correctness, and +readiness, upon the general principle that a well educated woman should +do all things well. This, I should suppose, is in the power of most +persons; and it may be attained without loss of health, of time, or any +sacrifice of an important nature. She should consider it as an +advantage, a power to be employed for the gratification of others, and +to be indulged with moderation and good sense for her own resource, as a +change of occupation. + +Consider in this light, music is what Providence intended it to be--a +social blessing. The whole creation is replete with music,--a benignant +Power has made the language of the feathered tribe harmony; let us not +suppose that He condemns his other creatures to silence in the song. + +Music has an influence peculiar to itself. It can allay the irritation +of the mind; it cements families, and makes a home, which might +sometimes be monotonous, a scene of pleasant excitement. Pursued as a +recreation, it is gentle, rational, lady-like. Followed as a sole +object, it loses its charm, because we perceive it is then over-rated. +The young lady who comes modestly forward, when called upon as a +performer, would cease to please, were she, for an instant, to assume +the air and confidence of a professional musician. There is a certain +style and manner--confined now to second-rate performers, for the +highest and most esteemed dispense with it--there is an effort and a +dash, which disgust in the lady who has bad taste enough to assume them. + +And, whilst I am on this topic, let me remark that there is a great deal +in the _choice_ of music, in the selection of its character, its +suitability to your feelings, style, and taste, and this especially with +respect to vocal music. + +There is no doubt that a good Italian style is the best for instruction, +and that it produces the most careful and accomplished singers. Suppose +a case. Your parents, most fair reader, have paid a high price to some +excellent professor, to instruct you--and, with a fair ear, and a +sufficient voice, you have been taught some of those elaborate songs +which are most popular at the opera. A party is assembled--music is one +of the diversions. Forth you step, and, with a just apprehension of the +difficulties of your task, select one of those immortal compositions +which the most eminent have made their study; you execute it +wonderfully, only just falling a _little_ short of all the song should +be; only just provoking a comparison, in every mind, with a high +standard, present in the memory of every cultivated musician near you. A +cold approval, or a good-natured "bravo!" with, believe me, though you +do not hear it, a thorough, and, often, expressed conviction that you +had better have left the thing alone, follows the effort which has +merely proclaimed the fact that, spite of time and money spent upon the +cultivation of your voice, you are but a second-rate singer. + +But, choose a wiser, a less pretending, a less conspicuous path. Throw +your knowledge into compositions of a less startling, less aspiring +character. Try only what you can compass. Be wise enough not to proclaim +your deficiencies, and the critics will go away disarmed, even if they +are not charmed. But if there be _any_ voice, _any_ feeling, _any_ +science, the touching melody, made vocal by youth and taste, will obtain +even a far higher degree of encomium than, perhaps, it actually merits. +You will please--you will be asked to renew your efforts. People will +not be afraid of cadenzas five minutes long, or of bravuras, every note +of which makes one hope it may be the last. + +It is true that, to a person who loves music, the performance of one of +the incomparable songs of Bellini, Rosini, Flotow, or Mozart, is an +actual delight--but; when attempted by a young amateur, it should be, +like many other delights, confined to the private circle, and not +visited upon society in general. + +Do not suppose that I mean to recommend poor music, or feeble, +ephemeral compositions. What is good need not, of necessity, be always +difficult. Ballad music is rich in songs adapted for the private +performer--and there are many, in Italian, of great beauty, which, +though they would not be selected for a concert-room, or for brilliant +display, are adapted for ladies. + +Music is the greatest, best substitute for conversation. It has many +merits, in this light. It can never provoke angry retort; it can never +make enemies; it can injure no one's character by slander; and in +playing and singing one can commit no indiscretion. + +Music is a most excellent amusement, and, in society, an indispensable +one. It aids conversation by occasionally interrupting it for a short +period, to be renewed with a new impetus. It makes the most delightful +recreation for the home circle, varying the toil and trouble of the +father's or husband's working day, by the pleasures of the evening made +by music's power to glide smoothly and swiftly. + +There are but few persons who are entirely without a love for music, +even if they do not understand it. They will be borne along upon the +waves of a sweet melody to high, pure thoughts, often to delicious +memories. + +The piano is, at the present day, the most popular instrument in +society. The harp has ceased to be fashionable, though it is sometimes +heard. The latter is a most beautiful accompaniment for the voice, but +requires a large room, as, in a small one, it will sound stringy and +harsh. + +The guitar, while it makes a very pleasant accompaniment for the voice, +has also the advantage of being easily carried from place to place. + +It requires as much judgment to select proper instrumental pieces for a +parlor performance, as you would display in a choice of songs. Page +after page of black, closely printed notes, will drive those who see +them from the piano. They may be executed in the most finished style, +but they are not suited to general society. In their place, for +practice, or for a musical soiree, where every one puts forth her best +musical powers, they are appropriate, and will give pleasure, but they +are not suited for a mixed party. When asked to play, choose, if you +will, a brilliant, showy piece, but let it be short. It is better still +to make no attempt at display, but simply try to please, selecting the +music your own judgment tells you is best suited to your audience. + +Avoid the loud, thumping style, and also the over-solemn style. + +Be sure, before you accept any invitation to play, that you know +perfectly the piece you undertake. It is better to play the simplest +airs in a finished, faultless manner, than to play imperfectly the most +brilliant variations. + +Avoid movement at the piano. Swinging the body to and fro, moving the +head, rolling the eyes, raising the hands too much, are all bad tricks, +and should be carefully abstained from. + +With respect to drawing, modeling, or any pursuits of the same nature, +so much depends on taste and opportunity, and they are so little the +accomplishments of society that they require but few of those +restrictions which music, in its use and abuse, demands. Drawing, like +music, should be cultivated early. Its advantages are the habits of +perseverance and occupation, which it induces; and the additional +delight which it gives to the works, both of nature and of art. Like +music, it gives independence--independence of society. The true lover of +the arts has a superiority over the indifferent, and, if she be not +better prepared for society, is much better fitted for retirement than +those who are not so happily endowed with tastes, when in moderation, so +innocent and beneficial. + +There is no accomplishment more graceful, pleasing, healthy, and +lady-like, than that of riding well. Avoiding, at the same time, +timidity and the "fast" style, keeping within the bounds of elegant +propriety, gracefully yielding to the guidance of your escort, and +keeping your seat easily, yet steadily, are all points to be acquired. + +To ride well is undoubtedly an admirable qualification for a lady, as +she may be as feminine in the saddle as in the ball room or home circle. +It is a mistaken idea to suppose that to become an accomplished +horse-woman a lady must unsex herself. But she must have a reserve in +her manner, that will prevent contamination from the intercourse which +too much riding may lead to. To hunt, or follow the field sports, in a +pursuit which is the track of blood, disgusts the true admirer of gentle +breeding. And such diversions will certainly result in a coarseness of +manner and expression, growing upon the fair equestrian slowly but +surely. A harsh voice, loud tone, expressions suited only to manly lips, +but unconsciously copied, will follow her devotion to the unfeminine +pursuit. + +Nothing is more revolting than a woman who catches the tone and +expressions of men. To hear the slang of jockeyism from female lips, is +very offensive, yet ladies who mix in field sports are liable, nay, +almost certain, to fall into a style of conversation which is ten times +worse than the coarsest terms from the lips of a man. Instances there +are, of the fairest of our sex, from a fondness for such diversions, and +a habitual participation in such society, becoming hard, bold, and +disgusting, even whilst retaining all their female loveliness of person. + +A lady, unless she lives in the most retired parts of the country, +should never ride alone, and even then she will be awkwardly placed, in +case of accident, without an escort. In the cities, not only is it +unfeminine, but positively dangerous, for a lady to ride unaccompanied +by a gentleman, or a man servant. + +Although it is impossible, within the limits of this little volume, to +give many hints upon riding, a few may not be amiss. Like many other +accomplishments, a teacher is necessary, if you wish to attain +perfection, and no written directions can make you a finished +horse-woman, unless you have had tuition and practice. + +1. In mounting you are desired, gentle Amazon, to spring gracefully into +your saddle, with the slight assistance of a hand placed beneath the +sole of the shoe, instead of scrambling uncouthly to your "wandering +throne," as Miss Fanshawe wittily calls it, from a high chair, as is +frequently done by those who have not been properly instructed. To mount +in the orthodox manner, you should stand nearly close to the horse, +level with the front of the saddle, and taking the reins slackly in your +right hand, you should place that hand on the nearest pommel, to secure +your balance in rising, and with your left hand gather up the front of +the habit, so as to leave the feet clear. The gentleman should place +himself firmly, near, but not so near to you as to impede your rising, +and with the same view must hold his head well back, as should he lose +his hat from a whisk of your habit the effect produced is not good. You +should then present your left foot, and the gentleman placing one hand +beneath its sole, and the other above, so as to possess a safe hold, +should, with nice judgment, give just such assistance as will enable you +easily, with a spring, to vault gracefully into the saddle. You will +then arrange your right leg comfortably over the pommel, your cavalier +will then place your left foot in the stirrup and arrange the flow of +the habit-skirt, and all is complete. All this, though so seemingly +simple and easy, requires some little practice to effect neatly and +gracefully. + +2. Secondly, when riding with a gentleman, remember that you are best +placed on the _left_ side; because in that position the graceful flow of +your habit is seen to the greatest advantage, while it does not +inconvenience the gentleman by getting entangled with his stirrup, nor +does it receive the splashes of his horse. + +3. But when you have a double attendance of cavaliers, if you be at all +a timid rider, it may become discreet to "_pack_" you (forgive the +homely phrase) between the two, since, in this position, you are the +most thoroughly protected from your own horse's shying, or from other +horses or vehicles approaching you too closely, being thus forced to +take that part of the road to which the better judgment of your +companions inevitably guides you. If you be an accomplished equestrian, +you will prefer being outside, and (as has been said) to the left. + +Sit erect in the middle of your saddle, turning your face full towards +the head of your horse. Cling as closely as possible to the saddle, but +avoid stooping forward, or using your hands to keep you in your seat. +Nervous motions on horseback are not only ungraceful, but dangerous, as +your horse will not make any allowance for the delicacy of your nerves, +and may prove his objections to a jerking hand, or a twitching rein, in +a most decided and disagreeable manner. + +The riding-dress, or habit, is best made to fit the figure tightly, with +tight sleeves. It may be open in the front, over a neatly fitting +chemisette, or buttoned close to the throat, with a neat linen collar +and cuffs. The loose sacque is ungraceful, but a basque is most becoming +on horseback. Gauntlet gloves, of leather, are the most suitable, and +must be loose enough to give your hand perfect freedom, yet not so loose +as to interfere with its motions. Do not wear the skirt too long; it +will be dangerous in case of accident, and it may prove annoying to your +horse. Your habit must be made of a material sufficiently heavy to hang +gracefully, and not move too much with the wind. For a winter habit, a +warmly-lined basque, trimmed at the throat and hands with fur, is an +elegant and appropriate dress, and a round cap of the same cloth as the +habit, with a band, and pieces to cover the ears, of fur to match the +dress trimmings, makes a handsome and appropriate dress. + +In summer, your hat should be of fine straw, and slouched to shade the +face; in winter, of felt, or, if you prefer, a close cap of cloth. The +hat may be trimmed with feathers or knots of ribbon, and the shape +should be one to protect the complexion, at the same time graceful and +becoming. + +Avoid any display in a riding dress. Choose a material of some dark or +neutral tint, and never use showy trimmings. + +Curls, or any flowing loose style of wearing the hair, will be found +exceedingly troublesome on horseback. Arrange it neatly and compactly +under your hat, for if a stray curl or lock annoys you, or is blown +across your eyes by the wind, your hands will be too fully occupied to +remedy the difficulty. + +Your whip should be light and small, tasteful if you will, but not +showy. + +At the period for which these hints are intended, the Modern Languages +should form a portion of acquirement. As in music, an intelligent and +assiduous girl may, I believe, acquire an adequate degree of proficiency +in French, German, and Italian, without having been abroad, though a +foreign tour will be of the greatest use in the acquisition of the +accent and niceties of each tongue. With respect to French, it is no +doubt essential to comfort to understand it; it is one of the attributes +of a lady to speak it well; still, it is not indispensable to speak it +so well that the American lady is mistaken for a Parisian. This, which +but seldom happens, can only be acquired, in most cases, by a residence +abroad. But French is thoroughly and grammatically taught in America. It +is only the habit of speaking, the idioms and niceties, which cannot be +acquired except by converse with a native. + +There are hundreds of competent instructors in this country, French +ladies and gentlemen amongst the number, who form classes for +conversation and familiarizing their pupils with these very idioms. +After availing herself of such advantages, a young lady will find that a +very short residence abroad will improve and facilitate her French +conversation. + +Much, however, will depend upon how you use the opportunities within +your reach. There are many opportunities of practice in large towns; and +foreigners give all facilities, by their readiness to converse, their +good-nature in listening, and in helping the beginner by kind hints. If +a young lady, with simplicity, good breeding, and good taste, endeavors +to speak whenever she has an opportunity, words will come as if by +intuition. Do not think of by-standers and lookers-on; think only of the +individual to whom you are addressing yourself. If possible, be not +abashed by one or two errors at the first plunge--swim on till you have +confidence. The effort, I grant, is great, and it may be obviated by a +foreign education; but where this is impossible, the freedom acquired +will more than repay the exertion. + +In foreign literature, walk carefully, and if you have an older, wiser +head than your own to point out the best paths, improve the advantage. + +One cannot help deeming it a great era in education that German is +cultivated as well as Italian and French, and that stores of literature +are opened, to vary the delights of intellect, and to give freshness and +interest to the studies of youth. + +The rapture with which the works of Schiller are perused in the +original, seems to repay the hours devoted to German; and I am sure the +perusal of Tasso, or of the Aristodemo of Monti, would reward the study +of Italian, were not the acquisition of that exquisite language of +itself a source of poetic pleasure. + +The modern French writers have increased an everlasting responsibility +in corrupting the sources of amusement, open to the young readers, and +it is remarkable that most of the distinguished French authors seem to +have felt that they had erred, and to have retrieved in some of their +works the tendencies of their other productions. Take for instance, +Madame de Stael; her books cannot be judged altogether; the effect of +some of her eloquent and almost incomparable writings varies in an +extraordinary degree. Whilst "Delphine" is unfit for the perusal of a +modest woman, her "L'Allemagne" is finely written throughout, and her +criticisms and analyses of German writers are full of instruction as +well as interest. + +Still the works open to readers of French are numerous. The tragedies of +Corneille and Racine are forcible and finished, and should be read +because classical. The "Alzire" of Voltaire and his "Zaire" with the +dramas of Casimir de la Vigne are also worthy of perusal. It is not an +inspiriting kind of reading, but it is rich in sentiment, and perfectly +unexceptionable in moral tone. + +Although the scepticism of most German writers renders this literature +dangerous to a young mind, there are fields of pure, noble writing open +in that language. The works of Schiller, for example. His mind was +originally noble, his heart good, his love to mankind, and his enquiry +after truth were sincere. In early life, he wavered; and the besetting +scepticism of the Germans dimmed, for a time, his perceptions of all +that is most sublime, as well as true, in our finite knowledge. He was +chastened--he suffered--he believed. He died an early but a bright +instance that great genius may exist with true and humble piety, and +that the mind is never so powerful as when illumined by divine light. +His works are a magnificent library in themselves--and I could almost +say, be contented to learn German and to read Schiller. Some of his +works are open to objection, his "Bride of Messina," portions of "The +Robbers," are better omitted from your collection, but "Wallenstein" and +"Maria Stuart" are noble and admirable productions. On this subject, +and, indeed, on the whole of German literature, Madame de Stael is an +excellent guide in her "L'Allemagne," to which I refer the young German +student, who is sincerely desirous of gleaning the good, and avoiding +the evil in German compositions. + +Italian literature furnishes a delightful theme for comment. It is +singular that an enslaved, and, during many ages, a depraved and +degraded people, should have possessed the purest poetry, the least +exceptionable drama, in Europe. There is little to exclude, and much to +recommend, in this beautiful language. The works of Tasso abound with +high sentiment; the "Inferno" of Dante is a sublime picture of eternal +retribution, softened with most touching pictures of human woe. Happy +are those who have leisure to pursue extensively the acquisition of +Italian literature, they may read and commit to memory without fear of +an insidious meaning beneath the polished verse, or the prose which has +all the charm of poetry. + +Spanish literature will require the same judicious pruning which is +necessary in French and German, but of all languages, it is the most +musical for speech, and singing. + +A lady in society must, if she would not grow utterly weary in company, +know how to dance. It has been the practice among many excellent people +to represent the ball room as a "pitfall covered with flowers;" a sheet +of breaking ice; above, all gayety and motion; below, all darkness and +danger. It may be that to some minds the ball room may be replete with +temptations; but there are minds which find temptations everywhere. The +innocent may be innocent, nay, the pious may feel devout, even in a ball +room. There is nothing immoral or wrong in dancing; it is the tendency +of youth to dance--it is the first effort of a child--the first natural +recreation. It seems so natural that I confess I am always doubtful of +the sincerity of those young ladies who profess to dislike the ball +room. + +In the present day, you must understand how to move gracefully through +quadrilles, to dance polka, Schottische, Varsovienne, and waltz. To +these you may add great variety of dances, each season, probably, +bringing a new one. + +"Dancing," says Mr. Sheldrake, "is one of the most healthy, as well as +one of the most pleasing amusements that can be practised by the young. +If it is learned from those who are well qualified to teach it, and +practised, as it ought to be, consistently with the instructions given, +it will contribute more to improve the health, as well as the form of +the human frame, than any other exercise. For the discovery and +promulgation of the true and correct principles according to which +dancing should be taught, the world is indebted to France, a country +which has long taken the lead in the elegant arts. In France, dancing +was first raised to the dignity of a science, a royal academy being +founded for the purpose of teaching and perfecting it, in the reign of +Louis Quatorze. In this academy were trained many of the most +distinguished dancers of both sexes." One of the most celebrated, Madame +Simonet, gave the following account to Mr. Sheldrake of the mode of +instruction pursued in the academy:--"All the pupils, before they were +permitted to attempt to dance, were completely instructed in what were +called the _preparatory exercises_; that is, a system of exercises, +which endued all their limbs with strength, firmness, elasticity, and +activity; when they had acquired these properties, they began to dance. + +"In these preparatory exercises, the motions were of the most simple +kind, the object being to teach the pupil, gradually and separately, all +those movements which, when combined, and rapidly executed, constitute +dancing." Madame Simonet thus described those elementary instructions, +as gone through by herself:--"She successively learned to stand flat +and firm upon both her feet, with her limbs quite straight, and the +whole person perfectly upright, but not stiff; then to lift one foot +from the ground, and to keep it so for some time without moving any part +of her body; she then replaced that foot on the ground, and raised the +other in the same manner. These simple actions were repeated till the +pupils were quite familiar with them; they were then directed to keep +the body quite erect, but not stiff, and bearing firmly upon one leg, to +raise the other from the ground, gradually and slowly, by bending the +upper joint of the limb, at the same time making the knee straight, and +putting the toe to its proper extent, but _no more_. The foot, after it +had been kept in this state for some time, was returned to the ground +from whence it was taken, and the other foot treated in the same manner; +when quite familiarized to these actions, they were directed to walk +(march, as some people will call it) slowly, performing the same motions +with the feet alternately." The exercises which followed these, were +upon the turning out of the feet, the balancing of the body, and other +attitudes, which need not be particularized. + +Mr. Sheldrake gives several examples of persons trained upon these +initiatory principles to the profession of dancing, who have lived in +health to a great age. "This," says he, "is not the chance lot of a few; +for I have, through life, been accustomed to see many persons of the +same profession; I have communicated my own observations to many others, +and all have agreed in remarking, that those who follow this profession +have, very generally, excellent health, which very many of them carry +into extreme old age. This indisputable fact can only be accounted for +by supposing that the preparatory exercises which these persons go +through, are a modification of what I have called regulated muscular +tension, or action, and the early and constant practice of which lays a +firm foundation for that high health which accompanies them through +life. It is upon the same principle that a soldier is never seen with +spinal curvature, or other personal deformity, or a stage dancer of +either sex with a deformed person; it is, perhaps, impossible that such +things should exist, for the plain reason, that the exercises which they +begin to practice early in life, and continue regularly through its +whole course, render it impossible for them to become so. + +"The inference to be drawn from these incontrovertible facts is, that if +we, in very early life, teach young children to practice similar +exercises, and follow them steadily afterwards, we shall confirm them in +excellent health, and prevent the accession of those evils which so +often cause deformity to the figure, and destruction to the +constitution, at later periods of life. I do not propose to make every +boy a soldier, or every girl a dancer upon the stage, but to adopt the +principles, by the application of which those persons are trained to the +successful practices of their several occupations, and so to modify +them, that they may qualify other classes of society to follow _their_ +different pursuits with equal success; and I am not without hopes that +this undertaking will contribute something towards producing this +desirable effect." + +Dancing is an exercise which has been practiced by mankind from the +most remote ages. With the Egyptians, Assyrians, and Persians, the +founders of the three great empires of the ancient world, dancing was +the favorite exercise or accomplishment, and the practice was not less +prevalent among their successors in power and importance, the Greeks and +Romans. The Jews, also, we learn from Scripture, were strongly attached +to the exercise at all periods of their history. + +At the present day, almost every people that exist, whether barbarous or +civilized, has its own form of dancing. It is this universality of the +exercise that makes dancing a subject of importance. Being so +extensively practiced, it must be the instrument either of good or evil +to the human race. + +It is one of the most healthful and elegant amusements, and cannot be +too highly recommended. Among a rude and dissolute people it may +degenerate into something worthy of condemnation; but all the blessings +we have are similarly liable to abuse, and it would be most unjust to +condemn a cheerful domestic amusement, merely because it has, at times, +been degraded by people of low, vulgar, immoral tastes. By all +physicians, dancing, when pursued in moderation, is recommended as +highly conducive to bodily health; and it may be truly said, that, +allied with music, nothing is more conducive to _mental_ health, more +calculated to drive away melancholy, and put the whole temper into good +humor. + +Dancing is the poetry of motion. It must be performed with ease and +grace, and always with a perfect regard for propriety of movement. + +As an art it is taught by professed masters; and one of the leading +rules given to the learner is to raise and lower herself gracefully on +the elastic part of her feet, and to keep perfect time to the music. +Dancing is really a simple and elegant gliding on the toes, which bend +more or less to accommodate the steps, and prevent harsh, ungraceful +motion. + +The most popular dances of the present day, are, first, the quadrille. + +These are of French origin, comparatively tranquil in their character, +and generally danced once or more in every party. They are danced by +four couples, one standing on each side of a square. There are many sets +of quadrilles, the figures in each varying from the others. But there +are five figures in each set. The plain, fancy, Lancers, Polka, +Mazourka, and German, are among the most popular. + +In plain quadrilles, a lady takes no steps, merely walking gracefully +through the figures, but her feet must keep perfect time to the music, +and she must know the changes of position perfectly. + +A quadrille may be very properly described as a conversation dance, as +there are long pauses between the figures, when the dancers must have a +fund of small talk ready for their partners. + +When moving in the figures, hold out your skirt a little with the right +hand, merely to clear the ground, and prevent the possibility of +treading upon it. + +Next come the round dances, the _Valse_, Polka, Schottische, +Varsovienne, and Redowa. + +The Waltz is danced both _a troistemps_ and _deuxtemps_. In the waltz, +the position is a most important point. You may so lean upon your +partner's arm, and so carry your figure, that the prudish can find but +little fault, but you can also make the dance a most immodest one. I +cannot, within the limits of my book, go into a long argument as to the +propriety of these round dances. Opinions differ, and I am not writing a +sermon, but giving, as far as is in my power, hints to ladies in +society. It is, therefore, enough for me to know that these dances are +tolerated, and that, even were I so inclined, _I_ could not exclude +them. + +To return to the position. Stand a little to the right of your partner, +that, in clasping your waist, he may draw you upon his arm to his +shoulder, not his breast; the last position is awkward. By observing the +first, you have your head free; turn it a little towards the left +shoulder; need I say, never lay it upon your partner's shoulder? Throw +the head and shoulders a little back, not too much to be consistent with +easy grace, place one hand upon your partner's shoulder, and the other +in his disengaged hand. So, you are ready to start. + +The waltz may be danced to very fast time, or to slow music. The last is +the most graceful, and there is not so much danger of giddiness. Grace +can only be gained by a perfect timing of the steps to the music, and +also evenness of step. It is, when properly timed with perfect step, and +easy, gliding motion, the most graceful of dances. The Germans, who +dance for the sake of _dancing_, will only allow a certain number of +waltzers on the floor at one time, and these waltz in streams, all going +down one side of the room and up the other, thus rendering collisions +impossible. + +An English writer, in a recent work published on etiquette, speaks of +waltzing thus:-- + +"It is perhaps useless to recommend flat-foot waltzing in this country, +where ladies allow themselves to be almost hugged by their partners, and +where men think it necessary to lift a lady almost off the ground, but I +am persuaded that if it were introduced, the outcry against the +impropriety of waltzing would soon cease. Nothing can be more delicate +than the way in which a German holds his partner. It is impossible to +dance on the flat foot unless the lady and gentleman are quite free of +one another. His hand, therefore, goes no further round her waist than +to the hooks and eyes of her dress, hers, no higher than to his elbow. +Thus danced, the waltz is smooth, graceful, and delicate, and we could +never in Germany complain of our daughter's languishing on a young man's +shoulder. On the other hand, nothing is more graceless and absurd, than +to see a man waltzing on the tips of his toes, lifting his partner off +the ground, or twirling round and round with her like the figures on a +street organ. The test of waltzing in time, is to be able to stamp the +time with the left foot. The waltz is of German origin, but where it is +still danced in Germany in the original manner, (as, for instance, among +the peasants of the Tyrol,) it is a very different dance. It is there +very slow and graceful; the feet are thrown out in a single long step, +which Turveydrop, I presume, would call a _jete_. After a few turns, the +partners waltz alone in the same step, the man keeping the time by +striking together his iron-shod heels, until with a shout and clapping +of hands he again clasps his partner and continues in the same slow +measure with her." + +The position for the polka, redowa, and other round dances, should be +the same as that for the waltz, and for the steps, they can only be +acquired from a dancing teacher, and are impossible to describe +properly. + +One of the most delightful accomplishments which a lady can possess, and +one which is unfortunately but little cultivated, is the art of reading +aloud well; reading with expression, taste, animation, and correctness; +and this art once acquired, let her also be able to recite well. + +Long lectures may be given upon elocution, but the advice can be +condensed into two directions. First, be sure you pronounce, accent, and +enunciate every word correctly; then, throw your whole soul into the +words. Study your author carefully, that you may know precisely what he +means by each expression, and then try to bury your personal identity, +to become, for the time, the character you represent. + +One of the most delightful ways to spend a social evening, is to devote +it to dramatic literature. Invite only guests who read well, or who are +really interested listeners, and select a play, or scenes from several +plays, and cast the parts among your guests. All jealousy must be put +aside, and to-night's Hamlet must condescend to direct Richard to + + "Stand by, my lord, and let the coffin pass," + +to-morrow. + +After a few meetings, the peculiar talent of each reader will be +recognized, and you can select your tragedy hero, comedy hero, queen, +chambermaid, and other members of the force, with a view to the display +of each one's best powers. Vary the entertainment by reciting monologues +and dialogues. A whole play will often be found tiresome; it is best to +select several scenes, keeping up the thread of the plot, and +introducing the best characters, and leave out what is mere interlude, +and dispense with some of the subordinate characters. + +Leave one end of the room entirely vacant for the readers. You will find +it more interesting to have the readers stand, and use some little +motion; the words will flow more easily, the expressions come more +forcibly if the appropriate gesture is made. Love scenes will, of +course, require delicate handling, and embracing can be easily omitted; +neither would I recommend the action of a dueling scene, or a murder, +but merely to add gesture enough to give interest to both readers and +audience. + +You will find some little difficulty from bashfulness, and the "don't +like to" people at first, but soon you will discover with delight how +many of your friends possess the talent for reading well, and never knew +it themselves. + +You will do well to take a few lessons in elocution, but you need not +fear to read if you have never made the accomplishment a study. With a +correct knowledge of your own language, and a love for fine writing, you +will soon read well. + +Give to every part you undertake, the full effect intended by the +writer. Do not throw all your energy, your whole soul, into a leading +part at one time, and slight a subordinate character at another. If you +have but five words to read, read them as they would be spoken were you +the character you represent for the time. To hear a splendidly written, +tragic burst of passion read in a weak, whining voice, is no worse than +to have a few simple words from a servant's lips delivered with the +gesture and emphasis suited to a Medea or Lady Macbeth. + +I shall be condemned by many serious and well-judging persons, if I say +one word in favor of private theatricals; yet, as it appears to me, +there are in these diversions some advantages which are not to be found +to excuse the waltz, or the polka, or the ballet, or the hunting field. +In private theatricals there is the possibility of _some_ benefit. The +study of the finest dramatists, especially of Shakespeare, is not likely +to demoralize the mind, or to cool the enthusiasm for what is good. We +can scarcely know too well those works which have tended more to form +character than any collection of any kind whatsoever. + +Shakespeare, Sheridan, Bulwer,--but I cannot go through the list of fine +dramatic writers whose works elevate the mind and taste. The plays of +Sheridan, Knowles, and Bulwer, are, in most instances, well adapted for +private representations--the most exquisite delineations of female +character may be found in the dramatic library, and high, pure, manly +thoughts, may be traced, line after line, to the same source. + +Private theatricals should, however, be regulated with much judgment. I +see no reason to restrict too severely talent of this kind where it +exists, any more than to crush a dawning taste for the other fine arts. +What we have to do is to raise and direct it; never to let it occupy too +much time, nor to become the business of life; never to let it infringe +upon duties; never to allow it to lead us into an unreasonable, and, +therefore, criminal expense. Our ancestors were content to strew their +stage at the end of their halls with rushes, and to hang up the name of +the scene, instead of a scene, before each act. The best preparations, +which generally render private theatricals both laborious and expensive, +add but little to the pleasure of the beholders, whose attention is +fixed upon the actors, and who can always see far finer scenes at a +minor theatre than at any private theatricals. Were we content with +greater simplicity in our amusements, how much vain ostentation, +heart-sickening expense, self-recrimination, and trouble, might be +avoided! + +As a valid objection to private theatricals, it has been urged that they +are apt to encourage a taste for the green-room of the public theatre in +young men and boys; in women the risk is less, for few women are ever +known to go on the stage except from necessity. I own this objection to +theatricals is the greatest that can be urged. It can only be answered +in mitigation that, where there exists a taste of the kind, it is better +that it should be indulged at home, instead of at the theatre, with the +modest inmates of a well-governed house, instead of with professional +actors. Like all other amusements, the abuse is probable, but the power +of restraint rests within ourselves. + +Under the same head as private theatricals may come dramatized charades +and proverbs, so much in fashion at the present time. These last have +some great advantages over the standard plays; they are better suited to +a parlor; they do not provoke comparison between the young actors, and +the favorite public idols; they require but little scenery and +arrangement; they are short; and they do not require so many subordinate +characters. + +Impromptu charades and proverbs are delightful, and are the occasion for +much merriment; the mistakes, the absurd contrasts between character and +costume, the scenery--a deep, hanging wood, the court of Louis Quatorze +or the deck of a man of war, being improvised at a moment's notice, only +add to the merry enjoyment. + +One rule you must observe if you join in these amusements: never to +carry your gayety into romping. Merry and laughing you may be, yet never +forget you are a lady. You may personate a newly-caught Irish +chambermaid, use the broadest brogue, wear the commonest dress, throw +yourself heartily and thoroughly into the part, losing your personal +identity almost entirely, and yet you may retain that nameless charm, +which will place you in the mind of each of the audience as a lady of +refinement. + +You must also be perfectly good-natured and self-sacrificing; ready to +play the smallest parts with the same interest you would throw into the +principal ones. Try to throw out all the good points in the parts taken +by the other members of the company. If you play an insignificant part, +play it well, with all the grace you can, make the most of it, but do +not try to raise it to the first place. Yield gracefully the prominent +position to those who claim it in the plot of the play, and never try +by conspicuous dress or by play, to go beyond the position set down for +you. + +Another delightful accomplishment, and one which will aid you if you are +studying drawing and painting, is that of arranging _tableaux vivants_. + +Mrs. Severn gives the following hints upon this subject: + +"Perhaps there is no intellectual amusement in fashionable life, the +nature of which is so little understood, as the _tableau vivant_; it +being generally considered as only a vehicle for display, whereas its +real purpose is to arrange scientifically a combination of natural +objects, so as to make a good picture according to the rules of art. + +"A _tableau vivant_ is literally what its name imports--a living picture +composed of living persons; and, when skilfully arranged and seen at a +proper distance, it produces all the effect of a real picture. It is +said, that the first living picture was contrived by a profligate young +German nobleman, who having, during the absence of his father, sold one +of the celebrated pictures belonging to the old castle, which was an +heir-loom, to conceal the deficiency, placed some of his companions +behind the frame, so as to imitate the missing picture, and to deceive +his father, who passed through the room without being conscious of his +loss. + +"A _tableau vivant_ may be formed in two ways: it may consist of a group +of persons, who take some well-known subject in history or fiction to +illustrate, and who form a group to tell the story according to their +own taste; or, it may be a copy, as exact as circumstances will permit, +of some celebrated picture. The first plan, it may be easily imagined, +is very rarely effective; since, as we find that even the best masters +are often months, or even years, before they can arrange a group +satisfactorily on canvas, it is not probable that persons who are not +artists should succeed in making good impromptu pictures. Indeed, it has +been observed, that artists themselves, when they have to arrange a +_tableau vivant_, always prefer copying a picture to composing one. + +"Copying a real picture, by placing living persons in the positions of +the figures indicated in the picture, appears, at first sight, an easy +task enough; and the effect ought to be easily attained, as there can be +no bad drawing, and no confused light and shade, to destroy the effect +of the grouping. There are, however, many difficulties to conquer, which +it requires some knowledge of art to be aware of. Painting being on a +flat surface, every means are taken to give roundness and relief to the +figures, which qualities of course are found naturally in a _tableau +vivant_. In a picture the light is made effective by a dark shadow +placed near it; diminished lights or demi-tints are introduced to +prevent the principal light appearing a spot; and these are linked +together by artful shades, which show the outline in some places, and +hide it in others. The colors must also be carefully arranged, so as to +blend or harmonize with each other. A want of attention to these minute +points will be sufficient to destroy the effect of the finest picture, +even to those who are so unacquainted with art as to be incapable of +explaining why they are dissatisfied, except by an involuntary liking or +disliking of what they see. + +"The best place for putting up a _tableau vivant_ is in a door-way, +with an equal space on each side; or, at least, some space on both sides +is necessary; and if there is a room or a passage between the door +selected for the picture and the room the company is to see it from, so +much the better, as there should be a distance of at least four yards +between the first row of the spectators and the picture. It must be +remembered that, while the tableau is being shown, nearly all the lights +must be put out in the room where the company is assembled; and, +perhaps, only one single candle, properly placed, in the intervening +space between the company and the tableau, must be left slightly to +illuminate the frame. In the above-mentioned door-way a frame, somewhat +smaller than the original picture, must be suspended, three, four, or +even five feet from the floor, as may suit the height of the door; or, +if the door is not very high, the frame may be put one or two feet +behind, to gain space; but care must be taken to fill up the opening +that would, in that case, show between the door-way and the frame; also +a piece of dark cloth ought to be put from the bottom of the frame to +the ground, to give the appearance of the picture hanging on the wall. +The most important thing is, that the chairs or tables ought to be +placed behind the frame, so that the persons who are to represent the +tableau may sit or stand as nearly in the position, with regard to the +frame, as the figures appear to do in the real picture they are trying +to imitate, and at about two feet from the frame, so that the light +which is attached to the back of the frame may fall properly on the +figures. In order to accomplish this, great study and contrivance are +required, so that the shades may fall in precisely the same places as in +the original picture; and sometimes the light is put on one side, +sometimes on the other, and often on the top; and sometimes shades of +tin or paper are put between the lights and the tableaux, to assist in +throwing a shadow over any particular part. The background is one of the +most important parts, and should be made to resemble that of the picture +as nearly as possible; if it is dark, coarse cloth absorbs the light +best; but whether it is to be black, blue, or brown, must depend on the +tint of the picture; should the background be a light one, colored +calico, turned on the wrong side, is generally used. If trees or flowers +form the background, of course real branches or plants must be +introduced to imitate those in the picture. Even rocks have been +imitated; and spun glass has often successfully represented water. A +thin, black gauze, black muslin, or tarlatan veil, should be fastened to +the top of the frame, on the _outside_ of it, through which the tableau +is to be seen. + +"Care ought to be taken to conceal the peculiarities of the different +materials used in the draperies, and it is even sometimes necessary to +cover the stuffs used for the purpose with a gauze of a different color, +so as to imitate the broken and transparent colors found in most good +pictures. This, carefully attended to, will give a quietness and +simplicity to the whole, which will greatly add to the illusion." + +The next subject upon the list of accomplishments, should be filled by +some words upon fancy sewing. Under this head will come--Crochet, +Knitting, Tapestry work, Embroidery, Chenille work, Netting, Canvas +work, Berlin wool work, Frame work, Braiding, Bead work, etc. + +Small social gatherings will be much more entertaining, the time will +pass much more quickly, and the conversation flows more freely if the +fingers are employed with some light work. + +Pretty presents--nay, beautiful ones--may be made in this way, when the +fingers would otherwise be idle, and these will have an additional value +in being the work of your own hands. + +From the most remote ages needlework has been, not only a source of +pecuniary advantage for poor women, but also of pleasant pastime for the +rich. It is one of the most elegant of the imitative art, and from time +immemorial it has been an amusement for otherwise idle fingers, from the +cottage to the palace. + +I have not space for a long disquisition upon the uses and pleasures of +fancy work; every woman has moments when such pretty playwork will be a +valuable recreation. The taste for fancy work increases daily, and can +be made not only ornamental, but useful. A ladies' wardrobe consists of +so many, and such varied objects, that the evenings of an entire winter +may be spent in making various useful garments, which are, at the same +time, suitable for company sewing. Opera hoods, wool shawls, sleeves, +Sontags, and other ladies' articles, may be varied by embroidering +smoking caps, slippers, or handkerchiefs for gentlemen. + +Embroidering on canvas, or tapestry work, opens a large field for taste +and skill in execution. Beautiful articles for presents, chair covers, +sofa cushions, slippers, may be worked in the otherwise idle moments +spent in familiar society, and the fingers will soon acquire skill and +astonishing rapidity. + +The German ladies have constantly on hand a piece of netting or other +fancy work, which they carry from place to place, and take out when +conversing; and so far from entirely engrossing their thoughts, they +chat more readily and freely with their fingers thus employed. + +American ladies will find the custom worth imitating. Many tedious hours +will be smoothly, pleasantly passed, with the mind free, but the fingers +pleasantly occupied. + +An evening passed in sewing or knitting, with one good reader to +entertain the industrious workers, will be found very pleasant. I have +known a circle of young people meet every week to work in this way, the +reader being changed twice or three times in the course of the evening, +and these meetings have proved so pleasant, that scarcely any member +failed to plead "prior engagement" if invited out upon the evening +appointed to read and sew. + +It was formerly objected by the adversaries to mental cultivation in +women, that the acquirement of book learning would make them neglect +needlework; but so far from this being the case, the present, which is +often called the age of learning, is preeminently a working age. Never +were fingers more actively engaged than those of the rising female +generation; braiding, embroidery, Berlin work, knitting, netting, and +crochet, are all in full play. A long neglected work has been recently +revived, called by the French "La Frivolite." It is very pretty evening +work, partly because it does not impede conversation, for it may be +carried on almost without looking at it, and partly because no other +work shows to so much advantage the grace and delicacy of the hands. The +most simple form of this work was anciently known under the name of +Tatting, but that only consisted of a series of loops in a straight +line, which were used for trimming linen articles, and which was not so +pretty as La Frivolite, which has varieties which are a good imitation +of point, and may be used for collars and sleeves. + +I give a few specimens of pretty work for evening sewing, and refer the +reader to "The Ladies' Handbook of Embroidery," published by G. G. +Evans, for a full, complete description of every kind of fancy work, +with specimens, patterns, and clear, plain directions. + +NETTED CUFFS--These cuffs are very pretty, and easy to make. They are in +plain netting, and will require white, and five shades of scarlet wool. + +Set on thirty-five stitches of the white wool. Net five rows, then take +a mesh a very little larger, and widen by netting two stitches in every +stitch. Then net with the smallest mesh the two lightest shades, one row +of each, and two rows of the other three shades. Then graduate the +shades back again to white, narrowing the first row of white with the +larger mesh. Net ten rows with the smaller mesh, widen again, repeat the +shades of red, narrow again, and finish with the five rows of white. + + +KNITTED OPERA CAP. + +MATERIALS REQUIRED--Half an ounce of white and half an ounce of shaded +Berlin wool will be sufficient. + +Cast on a hundred stitches with white wool, and knit and pearl +alternately for four rows. + +_Shaded wool_--Knit one row plain; next row bring forward, and take two +together to the end. + +_White wool_--Knit and pearl alternately four rows. + +_Shaded wool_--Knit plain six rows. + +_White wool_--Knit a row, decreasing it by taking the first two stitches +together, and the last two. Pearl a row. Knit a row, decreasing it as +before. Pearl a row. + +_Shaded wool_--Knit a row, decreasing at the beginning and end. Next +row, bring forward and take two together to the end. + +_White wool_--Knit a row, decreasing at both ends. Pearl a row. Knit a +row, decreasing as before. Pearl a row. + + +FOR THE PATTERN IN THE CENTRE OF THE CAP. + +SHADED WOOL--_1st row_--Slip one. Knit two plain stitches (_a._) Wool +forward. Knit one. Wool forward. Knit two together. Knit one. Knit two +together. Repeat from (_a._) + +_2nd row_--Pearled. + +_3rd row_--Slip one. Knit two plain stitches (_b._) Wool forward. Knit +three plain stitches. Wool forward. Slip one. Knit two together. Pass +the slipped stitch over the knitted ones. Repeat from (_b._) + +_4th row_--Pearled. + +_5th row_--Slip one. Knit two plain stitches, (_c._) Wool forward. Knit +two together. Knit one. Knit two together. Wool forward. Knit one. +Repeat from (_c._) + +_6th row_--Pearled. + +_7th row_--Slip one. Knit two plain stitches (_d._) Wool forward. Slip +one. Knit two together. Pass the slipped stitch over the knitted ones. +Wool forward. Knit three plain stitches. Repeat from (_d._) + +_8th row_--Pearled. Repeat the last eight rows. + +_White wool_--Knit and pearl alternately for four rows; decrease at the +beginning and ending of the two plain rows. + +_Shaded wool_--Knit one plain row; decrease at the beginning and ending. +Next row; bring the wool forward, knit two together to the end of the +row. + +_White wool_--Knit and pearl alternately for four rows; decrease at the +beginning and ending of the two plain rows. + +Knit eighteen plain stitches, run a piece of cotton through the +remaining sixty-two stitches. Pearl and knit alternately, decreasing at +the beginning and ending of every plain row, until you have four +stitches remaining; cast them off; then take up eighteen stitches on the +opposite sides, and work a piece to correspond; leaving forty-four +centre stitches on the cotton. + +Take up the centre stitches on a needle pointed at both ends, draw the +cotton out; then pick up fourteen stitches at each end of the needle. + +_Shaded wool_--Knit two plain rows. + +_White wool_--Knit one plain row. Next row; wool forward, knit two +together to the end of the row. + +_Shaded wool_--Knit two plain rows and cast off. Join the two points +together at the back of the cap. Fold the front at the first pattern +row, and hem it to form the scallop at the edge. Pick up eighty stitches +at the back of the cap. + + +AN ECONOMICAL POINT COLLAR. + +It is well known that worked muslin collars, particularly if the work is +good, very soon wear out; as the work is too heavy for the muslin, +which, when it has been washed two or three times, becomes full of slits +and holes, though the work is still as good as ever. When this is the +case, cut the muslin off the work with a pair of sharp scissors, and lay +the work on the pattern of a collar cut in paper, so as to fill the +whole of the pattern. The work may be taken from two or three collars; +the arrangement of it must depend upon taste. When the cut-out work is +properly arranged, it must be tacked or basted to the paper pattern; and +this is best done with colored thread, that no mistake may arise when +the basting threads are to be drawn out. Four or six threads are then +drawn from one piece of work to another, with a needle and cotton, so as +to attach them together, and the loose threads are then overcast like +button-holes, so as to imitate the uniting threads of point lace. When +well done, with a sufficient quantity of the uniting threads, to make +the work firm, these collars are handsome, and will wash and wear well. + + +KNITTED VEILS. + +It is now customary to knit white veils of what is called Lady Betty's +wool, for babies to put over their faces when they are carried out in +cold weather, instead of pocket-handkerchiefs, which were formerly used +for the purpose, though they were very unfit for it. Knitted veils in +black silk or worsted are also worn by grown-up persons. The veils for +babies are very simple in their construction; they consist of oblong +pieces of knitting of any width and depth that may be required, with +knitted lace at the bottom and sides, and a string case at the top. The +following pattern is the most common: + +Knit and pearl alternately four rows, so that there may be two of each; +then bring forward and take two together an entire row. This pattern is +repeated through the entire veil; and it must be observed, that as many +stitches must be cast on as will make it of the necessary width. The +needles should be of the smallest size, of bone. Any lace will do; but +the following pattern, though not new, is both pretty and suitable; and +has, besides, the important recomendation of being very easy. + +Cast on eleven stitches and knit a row plain, then begin the pattern. + +_1st row_--Knit three; bring forward and take two together; knit one, +take two together; put the thread twice round the needle, take two +together, and knit one. + +_2nd row_--Knit two, pearl one, knit one, put the thread twice round the +needle, take two together, bring forward, and knit five. + +_3rd row_--Knit three, bring forward, take two together, knit one, +bring forward, knit two, pearl one, bring forward, take two together, +and knit two. + +_4th row_--Knit two, bring forward, knit five, bring forward, take two +together, knit five. + +_5th_ row--Knit three, bring forward, and take two together, knit the +rest plain. + +_6th row_--Cast off four, and knit the rest plain. + + +HINTS TO CROCHET-WORKERS. + +Examine carefully the form of the needle, and _try_ the hook, to +ascertain that it is perfectly smooth. Some are so sharp and ill-made as +to tear the cotton. Select those which are not of uniform thickness up +to the hook; the best are those which are thinner there than an inch +farther up. Where the needle is not proportionally fine near the hook, +it is almost impossible to keep the work even. + +Chain stitch ought to be done rather loosely, as working on it +afterwards contracts it, and is apt to give it a puckered appearance. It +is often advisable to use a needle one size larger for making the chain +than for the rest of the work, especially in edgings. It will be found +much easier to work the succeeding rows when this precaution is taken. +Crochet needles should be kept in a housewife similar to those used for +ordinary needles. The slightest soil or rust should be effaced with fine +sandpaper. + + +ORNAMENTAL NET FOR THE HAIR. + +Take two pieces of fine silk braid, scarlet or royal blue, and a No. 3 +bone crochet hook. + +Make a chain of eight stitches, unite the ends, and then D. C. the +first round, putting two stitches into each loop; there will now be +sixteen stitches and in the next round one long must be worked into +every stitch, and two chain between each long; the round will now +consist of forty-eight stitches, and we commence the pattern, or +diamonds. + +_3rd round_--Three long, two chain, four long with two chain after each, +and these long put into every second loop; repeat. + +_4th round_--Five long, two chain, five long with two chain after each, +and these long put into every second loop with the exception of the +fifth or last of them, which must skip two stitches instead of one; +repeat. + +_5th round_--Seven long, two chain, seven long with two chain after +each, and each of these long put into every second stitch; repeat. + +_6th round_--Five long, two chain, five long with two chain after each, +and each of these long put into every other stitch, three long, two +chain, five long again with two chain after each, and each put into +every second stitch; repeat from beginning. + +_7th round_--Three long, two chain, five long with two chain after each +and worked in every third loop, five long, two chain, five long again +with two chain after each, and these long worked as aforesaid in every +third loop; repeat from beginning. + +_8th round_--One long, two chain, five long with two chain after each +and these long put into every third stitch, seven long, two chain, again +five long, &c. &c.; repeat from beginning. + +_9th round_--Six long with two chain after each and work in every third +stitch, (five long, twelve long with two chain after each, these long +put in every third stitch); repeat the pattern in brackets. + +_10th round_--Nine long with two chain after them, these long being +worked in every second loop, (three long, two chain, nineteen long with +two chain after them, and the long worked in every second loop); repeat +the pattern in brackets. + +_11th, 12th, and 13th rounds_--A long and two chain all round, and the +long being worked alternately in every second and third loop; care being +taken to bring one into the position to complete each diamond as it is +come to. + +A crochet edging, begun with braid, and the last two or three rows +worked with gold twist as nearly the size of the braid as may be, and a +cord and tassels, finish off this elegant head-dress. + +The cord should be run in and out through the thirteenth round. We, +however, prefer a single-crochet band of some fifty stitches long and +six or eight wide, worked in the same material as the net, to a cord, +and this band may be finished off with a piece of gold fringe instead of +tassels at the ends, or with a scallop of edging crocheted in gold +twist. + + +DRESS GLOVE BANDS; FULL OR FRILLED SHAPE. + +Take three pieces of fine embroidery chenille, and a No. 3 bone crochet +hook. + +Make a chain of about forty stitches, or one long enough to go round +the wrist; Dc one row. + +_3rd row_--Two long, one chain and miss a stitch--repeat this all along. +Then one row Dc. + +_6th row_--Long crochet worked _very_ loosely, so much so as to leave +these stitches _at least_ half an inch high; two stitches to be put into +every second or third loop and one in each of the others all the way +along; fasten off. + +Join the chenille now on to the first row, and work a similar row or +frill to the one just directed, so that there be one on each side. + +Run a narrow velvet through the holes of the third row and affix wider +velvet ends, or chenille tassels to each extremity. Finish off with a +button and loop, and flute the frill on each side over the finger to +make it set. + +We need scarcely say that the chenille used should be selected to match +or agree with the evening dress, and that the velvet must match the +chenille. + +These bands may be made to look very handsome by working a row of Dc +loosely and evenly along the edge of each frill with gold or silver +twist, and running a band of gold or silver braid or trimming through +the holes in the third row instead of velvet. Then small bullion tassels +to match the twist will form a suitable and elegant finish. + +These bands may be worked round and slid over the hand like muffatees, +or made open as we have directed and buttoned, like the glove. The +buttons should be covered with crochet, and the loops crocheted. + + +KNITTED UNDER HABIT SHIRT. + +Three ounces of Three thread White Fleecy Wool. Pair of No. 10 Bone +Knitting Pins. Cast on forty-five stitches. + +Knit three rows. + +_4th row_--Knit ten; X make two and knit two together; knit one; X knit +the last six stitches. + +_5th row_--Knit, dropping the second of each of the two made stitches +all along. + +Knit eight rows. + +_14th row_--Knit ten; X make one and knit two together X repeat until +six remain; knit three; make one; knit three. + +_15th row_--Knit six; X make one and knit two together X repeat until +ten remain, which knit. + +Repeat these two rows three times more each, only not enlarging one (as +in the end of row fourteen), _every_ time, but only once in four rows, +merely knitting the six in the intervening rows. + +_22nd row_--Knit. Knit the next seven rows. + +_30th row_--Same as _14th_. + +_31st_ row--Same as _15th_. + +Keep on alternately knitting eight open, and then eight knitted rows, +and enlarging one stitch at the end in every fourth row until there are +a hundred and twenty-four rows. + +Then decrease one stitch at the beginning or front in every other row +for thirty-two rows, still continuing the pattern as before, and still +enlarging one stitch in every fourth row, at the end or back. This +shapes one side of the neck. + +Now knit forty-eight rows without increase or decrease at either end, +continuing the pattern or alternation of eight open and eight plain +knitted rows. This forms the back of the neck and the bottom of the back +of the habit-shirt. + +In the next thirty-two rows we diminish one in every fourth row, by +knitting two together at the back, while at the same time in every +fourth row, at the back, we knit two together, and make one in order to +form a series of holes, or pattern parallel to that on the other side +caused by enlarging in every fourth row. We also cast on one, at the +opposite end, in every other row, to shape the second side of the neck. +We then knit one hundred and twelve rows, having each ten knitted +stitches in the front of the habit-shirt, as on the opposite side, and +six at the back, and decreasing one in every fourth row, at the back, +and continuing the pattern, and also the series of holes at the back. + +Knit eight rows. + +Knit ten stitches, X make two and knit two together; X knit six at end. + +Knit all, dropping the second of each of the two made stitches. Knit two +rows; cast off. + +Now, with same needles, pick up the stitches all along the right front +of the habit-shirt; knit two rows and cast off. Do the same on the left +front. Then pick up those of the neck, and do the same, shaping it, if +necessary, by knitting two together occasionally. These finishing-off +rows look pretty done in pale pink or blue wool. Button-holes may be +made thus:--in the front or where the ten stitches are, and about once +in thirty rows, knit three; cast off four; knit three instead of +knitting the ten as usual. Next row, when we get back to the ten +stitches, knit three; cast on four; knit three. + + +INFANT'S KNITTED SOCKS. + +Half an ounce of White Lamb's Wool. Three No. 13 Knitting Needles. Cast +on Thirty stitches. + +_1st row_--Knit. + +_2nd row_--Knit two; make or enlarge one stitch by picking up one from +the previous row and knitting it; knit all the rest. + +_3rd row_--Knit. Repeat second and third rows alternately four times +more each of them. + +_12th row_--Knit two; make a stitch according to directions above given; +knit rest until four remain; knit two together; knit two. + +_13th row_--Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately three times more +each. + +_20th row_--Knit two; enlarge one as before directed; knit rest until +two remain; enlarge one; knit two. + +_21st row_--Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately three more times +each. + +_28th row_--Knit. + +_29th row_--Knit fourteen stitches, and leave the other upon the needle. +Take up the third needle and knit twenty rows more, of fourteen stitches +each. + +_49th row_--Knit two together; knit twelve; on same needle, and with +same wool, cast on twenty-seven stitches. + +_50th row_--Knit. + +_51st row_--Knit two; knit two together; knit rest until four remain; +knit two together; knit two. + +_52nd row_--Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately twice more each. + +_57th row_--Knit two; make one in manner directed; knit rest until four +remain; knit two together; knit two. + +_58th row_--Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately three times more +each. + +_65th row_--Knit all until four remain; knit two together; knit two. + +_66th row_--Knit. Repeat these two rows alternately four more times +each. + +_75th row_--Knit. + +_76th row_--Cast off. + +This completes the slipper portion of the sock. We now begin the +instep-piece. Take the wool and knit off ten stitches from the needle on +which the twenty-seven stitches were left; knit these ten from the +toe-end, or that where the twenty rows of fourteen stitches each has +been made; leave the remaining seventeen stitches still on the same +needle. Knit twenty rows of ten stitches, and in every other one pick up +the edge-stitch of the toe-piece and knit it with the tenth stitch, so +as to unite these two portions, viz: the toe and the instep. With each +stitch of the twentieth row, an edge-stitch of the side at the toe-end +of the slipper must be picked up, knitted and cast off, and a neat and +entire union of the toe of the slipper and the instep piece formed. + +This instep piece is to be ribbed in rows of four, viz: four rows in +which the plain side is uppermost, and four rows in which the pearled +side is uppermost. + +We now commence the leg portion of the sock. + +With the needle which has been left in the first side of the slipper +carefully pick up the edge-stitches all along the instep-piece and side +of the slipper; when this is done, there should be about fifty on the +needle. Take the wool and knit all along, including the picked up +stitches, and the seventeen originally on the needle. Knit two rows. + +_4th row_--Knit two; X make two (not by picking up, but in the ordinary +way, by passing the wool twice over the needle), and knit two together; +knit one; X repeat. + +_5th row_--Knit all; casting off one of each of the double made +stitches. Now knit twenty rows ribbed like the instep-piece. + +_26th row_--X Knit one; make one and knit two together; X repeat all +round. + +_27th row_--Knit. + +_28th row_--Knit two; X make one and knit two together; knit one; X +repeat. + +_29th, 30th, and 31st rows_--Knit. + +_32nd row_--Cast off. + +Take a wool needle, thread it with wool, and sew up the sock neatly, +stitch for stitch, from the top of the leg to the point of the sole; +then sew the toe; turn it; put on a little rosette of raveled wool; run +a ribbon in and out through the holes at rows 4 and 5, of the leg +portion, and it is completed. + +As this is intended for an Infant's Sock, we have ordered white wool, +that being most useful; should it, however, be wished to knit socks for +an older baby, the slipper may be made of Cerise, Scarlet, Pale Blue, +Green, or Straw-colored wool; and the 26th, 27th, and 28th rows, of the +leg portion, and the casting-off done in the color of the slipper; while +the instep-piece and the rest of the sock are made in white wool. + +The sock may also be enlarged by casting on extra stitches in the +beginning, and adding a couple of rows to each of the divisions of the +slipper part, and enough to the toe to preserve its form and symmetry. + +Almost any of the open anti-maccassar patterns may be used for knitting +the sock and instep-piece, if a light lace-like appearance is desired. +The well-known rose-leaf pattern looks particularly pretty. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +SERVANTS. + + +An English writer, speaking of servants, says:-- + +"There is no question but that we should seek to perform _all_ our +duties without hope of recompense; and yet, as regards our treatment of +servants, we should be especially careful that, in endeavoring to make +their bodily comfort and mental improvement an object of consideration, +we do not allow ourselves to dwell on the hope of gratitude or affection +from them in return. Many have done so, and having, with that view, been +tempted to accord unwise indulgences and to overlook serious faults, +they have found that, far from gaining the love of their servants, they +have incurred their contempt; and when they have perceived that their +favors, unappreciated, have led but to new encroachments, they have +hardened their hearts and rushed into an opposite extreme. Then they +have considered their servants as mere machines, from which labor must +be extorted by all available means. + +"A man servant is rarely grateful, and seldom attached. He is generally +incapable of appreciating those advantages which, with your cultivated +judgment, you know to be the most conducive to his welfare. Do you +accord to him regular hours, a stated allowance of work; do you refrain +from sending him out because it is wet and he is unwell; do you serve +yourself rather than ring for him at dinner time; he will rarely have +the grace to thank you in his heart for your constant consideration. +Hear him! He will thus describe a comfortable place:--'There were very +few in the family; when they went out of a night, we made it up of a +morning; we had nice hot suppers, and the cook made a good hash for +breakfast, and we always got luncheon between that and dinner; and we +were all very comfortable together, and had a friend in when we liked. +Master swore at us sometimes, but often made us a present for it when he +had been very violent; a good-hearted man as ever lived, and mistress +was quite the lady, and never meddled with servants. It was a capital +place!' + +"Servants' sympathies are with their equals. They feel for a poor +servant run off his legs, and moped to death; they have no feeling for a +pains-taking mistress, economical both from principle and scanty means; +they would (most of them) see her property wasted, and her confidence +abused without compunction. It is the last effort of a virtue in a +servant if, without any _private reason_, he should discharge his duty +by informing you of the injury which you are enduring at the hands of +his fellow servant. It is an effort of virtue, for it will bring down +many a bitter taunt and hard word upon his faithful head. '_I_ never got +a servant out of a place by telling tales on him,' will be said to him. +Directly a servant departs, we all know, tongues, tied before, are +loosed, to gain our favor by apparent candor. When it can avail us +nothing, we are told. We all know this, and have said, 'Be silent now, +you should have mentioned this at the time.' Supposing, then, you have +the _rara avis_, the servant that 'speaks at the time,' be chary of him, +or let me say _her_, (the best servants are women.) Oh! as you value +her, let her not suppose you cannot part with her. Treat her with +confidence, but with strict impartiality; reprove when necessary, +mildly, but decidedly; lest she should presume (power is so tempting), +and compel you, if you would retain your freedom, to let her go. + +"There is one thing a man servant values beyond all that your kindness +and your consideration can do for him--his liberty; liberty to eat, +drink, and be merry, with your things in the company of his own friends; +liberty to get the housemaid to clean his candlesticks, and bring up his +coals; and the housemaid wishes for liberty to lie in bed in the +morning, because she was up so late talking to John in the pantry; +liberty to wear flounces and flowers. The cook desires liberty too. For +this liberty, if you grant it, they will despise you; if you deny it, +they will respect you. Aim at their esteem; despair of their love or +gratitude; make your place what the best class of servants will value, +and, though in their heart, they may not thank you for it, you will +gain, perhaps, one servant out of twenty who will keep gross imposition +and gross immorality at bay. + +"These remarks can never be intended to deny the warm attachment of +female servants to the children of their employers. Deep love, no doubt, +is lavished by many a woman on the babe she has nursed. There is a +great deal to be said on the chapter of nurses which would require to be +dealt with by itself. Much wisdom is required in the administration of a +nursery, to which few general rules would apply. Cruel is the tyranny +the nurse frequently practises on the parent, who often refrains from +entering her nursery, not from want of love to her children, but +positive dread of the sour looks which greet her. Let her be firm, let +no shrinking from grieving her darling, who would 'break his heart if +his Nanna went,' deter her from discharging the encroaching servant. + +"I know a lady who was quietly informed by her nurse that she must have +a 'specified hour' for visiting her children, for that her entering +without ceremony was most inconvenient. The poor young lady, who was +fully persuaded her delicate infant would die, if removed to a +stranger's hands, meekly obeyed, and though tortured by the cries of the +poor sickly baby, never dared to intrude lest the nurse should abandon +it. This is a true history, and the sequel may as well be given: that +the nurse remained seven years, at the end of which time, having become +insupportable, though really devoted to the children, she gave warning, +and, though it cost her mistress bitter tears and much resolution, she +was suffered to depart, and then peace entered that house. + +"On the choice of servants much of the comfort of the young housekeeper +depends. It often happens that her choice has been determined by +appearance rather than the value of character. If such be the case, she +will have many difficulties to encounter. It is, in the present day, +hardly safe to take a servant if there be a single objection to +character, however it may be glossed over by the person referred to on +this point; for there is now an unhealthy disposition to pass over the +failings of servants who have left their places, and to make them +perfect in the eyes of others. In respect to sobriety, many people will +not acknowledge that a servant had had the vice of drinking, but will +cover the unpleasant truth in such gentle and plausible terms that it +becomes difficult to comprehend how far the hint is grounded, or not. Be +assured when a lady or gentleman hesitates on this point, or on that of +honesty, it is wiser not to engage a servant. Nor are you deviating from +Christian charity in not overlooking a dereliction of so material a +sort. The kindest plan to the vast community of domestic servants is to +be rigid in all important points, and having, after a due experience, a +just confidence in them, to be somewhat indulgent to errors of a more +trivial nature. + +"If all young housekeepers were strict upon the subject of dress, much +misery to servants would be saved, much temptation avoided, and +self-reproach prevented. Instead of this kind, and wise, and matronly +particularity, a type of the good, old-fashioned common sense of our +grandmothers, ladies now countenance their ladies'-maids in +discontinuing caps, or, if they have caps, in wearing flowers and lace, +flowered gowns, and other items of little apparent moment in detail, but +of much importance to a community as serviceable to the public when well +managed and respectable, as they are odious and noxious when immoral or +insolent. After these cruel indulgences, ladies marvel when they find +servants rise above their station and that they will not bear even a +mild reproof; they wonder that a plain, useful servant is nowhere to be +met with. There is now no medium between the fine lady with mittens and +flowers who dresses your hair, and the dirty sloven of a lodging-house. +All housemaids must now be upper housemaids; cooks must be cooks and +housekeepers. The homely housemaid--that invaluable character in her +way--is indeed difficult to be found; and, at a time when cleanliness is +at its zenith, the rarity is to discover any one who will clean. All, +except the raw country girl, expect to have deputies; and, if we go on +to perfection in this unhealthy system, we shall soon have no working +servants above twenty years of age. The consequence is, that a greater +number of servants are kept in every household than formerly in similar +families; many of these menials are corrupted by congregating together +and by idleness. The loud and crying complaints of the worthlessness of +this class are but too justly founded. That they are more mercenary than +ever, is owing to the pernicious system which lifts them up above their +condition, but fails to elevate them in the moral standard. In the scale +of virtue they sink every day lower and lower; in the outward attributes +they are, as they consider it, raised in character and improved in +appearance. + +"But is it so? The beauty of every thing is fitness. Is the half-fine, +unlady-like, yet lady-like creature, who answers to your dressing-room +bell, half so respectable as the old-fashioned, plainly dressed, +careful, homely maiden of your young days? Is it not with a feeling of +disgust that you turn from the attempted finery, and sigh for plain +collars, and caps undecked by flowers, again? I think, among the +best-bred, the most sensible, and, indeed, the most highly born people +of a superior stamp, this disgust is so strong that, in some families, a +grave and suitable costume is introduced for the female servants, and +the effect is satisfactory, both on the appearance and on the mode of +thinking of these persons. But this wise, and therefore kind plan, is +far from being general; and I have heard that a lady's-maid complained +to her mistress that she found herself the subject of ridicule, owing to +her not wearing silks, and indeed satins, as the other ladies'-maids +did. + +"It becomes the duty of ladies of influence to rise above the silly +vanity which, I fear, affects some of them, of seeing their +ladies'-maids as smart as ladies, and to oppose innovations on the +decencies of society, so pernicious to the class upon whom much of our +comfort depends. In setting out in life, a young married lady ought to +be more than ordinarily strict in these matters, for her inexperience +will certainly be taken advantage of to some extent. If she be rich +enough to have a housekeeper, let her endeavor to select one of strict +religious faith, plain in attire, grave, but kind, and of good sense, +and even intelligence; for cultivation of mind will never, whatever may +be stated, detract from the utility of a servant. It is absurd to +attribute to the diffusion of knowledge the deterioration of servants; +it is rather owing to the scanty amount of knowledge among them. Most +superficial is the education about which so much is said and written; +were servants more thoroughly grounded in many branches of knowledge, +they would be wiser, less rapacious, more systematic, and better +contented than they are. They are wretched reasoners, generally losing +sight of their own true interest, and grasping at that which is unreal +and visionary. If they were better educated, this would not be the case; +they would be less vain, less credulous; they would know what qualities +to respect; they would weigh better the advantage of their lot; and they +would work better as servants. They would give mind, where now they only +give hands; and their acquirements, taken from school as they are in +very early youth, are not ever likely to be such as to make the routine +of their work distasteful to them, from over refinement or cultivation. + +"It is always desirable to have, if possible, servants of one faith. But +if it so happens that you have a Roman Catholic servant and a Protestant +in your service, you are bound to allow each the free exercise of her +religion, and you ought not to respect them if, out of interest, they +will conform to yours. An exercise of authority on this point amounts, +in my opinion, to an act of tyranny, and it can only tend to promote +insincerity, and, perhaps, engender scepticism in its object. Nothing +is, indeed, so dangerous as to unsettle the faith of the lower classes, +who have neither time nor opportunity of fairly considering subjects of +religious controversy. + +"While on the subject of servants, I must deprecate the over-indulgence +of the present system towards them. Formerly they were treated with real +kindness, but it was the kindness that exacted duty in return, and took +a real interest in the welfare of each servant. The reciprocal tie in +former times between servant and master was strong, now it is wholly +gone. The easy rule of masters and mistresses proceeds far more from +indifference than from kindness of heart; for the real charity is to +keep servants steadily to their duties. They are a class of persons to +whom much leisure is destruction; the pursuits of their idle hours are +seldom advantageous to them, and theirs are not minds which can thrive +in repose. Idleness, to them, is peculiarly the root of all evil, for, +if their time is not spent in vicious amusements, it is often passed in +slander, discontent, or vanity. In writing thus, I do not recommend a +hard or inconsiderate system to servants. They require, and in many +instances they merit, all that can be done to alleviate a situation of +servitude. They ought not to be the slaves of caprice or the victims of +temper. Their work should be measured out with a just hand; but it +should be regularly exacted in as much perfection as can be expected in +variable and erring human nature. + +"Another point on which I would recommend firmness is that of early +hours. In this respect example is as important as precept; but, however +uncertain you may be yourself, I would not relax a rule of that kind. +For every comfort during the day depends upon the early rising of your +servants. Without this, all their several departments are hurried +through or neglected in some important respect. + +"Your mode of address to servants must be decisive, yet mild. The +authoritative tone I do not recommend. It is very unbecoming to any +young person, and it rarely attains the end desired; but there is a +quiet dignity of deportment which few servants ever can resist. This +should be tempered with kindness, when circumstances call it forth, but +should never descend to familiarity. For no caution is more truly kind +than which confines servants strictly to their own sphere. + +"Much evil results from the tendency, more especially of very young, or +of very old mistresses of families, to partiality. Commonly, one servant +becomes the almost avowed favorite; and it is difficult to say whether +that display of partiality is the more pernicious to the servant who is +the object of it, or to the rankling and jealous minds of the rest of +the household. It is true that it is quite impossible to avoid +entertaining a greater degree of confidence in some servants than in +others; but it should be shown with a due regard to the feelings of all. +It is, of course, allowable towards those who take a decidedly +responsible and confidential situation in a household. Still, never let +such persons assume the reins of government; let them act the part of +helmsman to the vessel, but not aspire to the control of the captain. + +"It is generally wise and right, after a due experience of the +principles and intentions of servants, to place confidence in their +honesty, and to let them have the comfort of knowing that you do so. At +the same time, never cease to exercise a system of supervision. The +great principle of housekeeping is regularity; and without this (one of +the most difficult of the minor virtues to practice) all efforts to +promote order must be ineffectual. I have seen energetic women, clever +and well-intentioned, fail in attaining a good method, owing to their +being uncertain in hours, governed by impulse, and capricious. I have +seen women, inferior in capacity, slow, and apathetic, make excellent +heads of families, as far as their household was concerned, from their +steadiness and regularity. Their very power of enduring monotony has +been favorable to their success in this way, especially if they are not +called upon to act in peculiar and difficult cases, in which their +actual inferiority is traceable. But these are not the ordinary +circumstances of life. + +"In closing these remarks on the management of servants, let me exhort +you never to forget that they are fellow-laborers, in the life of +probation, with ourselves; let us not embitter their lives by harshness, +or proffer to them temptation from carelessness and over-indulgence. +Since all that is given us of this world's goods is but in trust, let us +regard our servants as beings for whose conduct, while under our +control, we are more or less responsible. It is true that, if they come +to us with morals wholly depraved, it is not likely that the most +strenuous exertions can amend them; but many waver between good and +evil. Let us endeavor to excite in their minds a respect for virtue, to +give them motives for industry, inducements to save their wages. Those +who have large households should not deem the morals of the meanest of +their servants beneath their investigation, or too obscure for their +influence to reach." + +Some attention is absolutely necessary, in this country, to the training +of servants, as they come here from the lowest ranks of English and +Irish peasantry, with as much idea of politeness as the pig domesticated +in the cabin of the latter. + +Opening the door seems a simple act, yet few servants perform it in a +proper, respectful manner. Let your servant understand that the door +must be opened immediately after the bell rings. Visitors, from neglect +of this rule, will often ring several times, and finally leave the door. +I have known an instance when in a case of severe illness the patient +lost the visit of the doctor, who, after ringing some minutes, was +obliged to pay other visits, and could not return to the sufferer's +house until several hours later. + +When opening the door some servants hold it ajar and hold a long parley +with the person on the steps, as if afraid they wished to enter for the +purpose of murder or theft. + +Train them to answer the door promptly, speak politely to any one who +may be there, excuse you, if necessary, to visitors in courteous terms, +or, if you are in, show the callers into the parlor, take their card, +and come back quickly with your answer. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +ON A YOUNG LADY'S CONDUCT WHEN CONTEMPLATING MARRIAGE. + + +The following chapter, met with in a recent perusal of an English work +for young ladies, strikes me as so admirable, and so appropriate in this +place, that I quote the chapter entire: + +"The difficulties and trials of life have only just begun when a young +lady fancies herself to be of sufficient importance to become the theme +of animadversion. She knows little of the true importance of +self-control, until she experiences the first indications of preference +shown her by the other sex. + +"Such indications are often manifested, whilst she to whom they are +directed, is wholly unprepared to analyze her own feelings, before her +opinions upon what she has seen are by any means developed; before she +has even considered adequately, on what her happiness depends; before +she has discernment to reject what is frivolous, or wisdom to prefer +what is good. This is more especially the case in the highest and lowest +classes, in which, by a strange analogy, they either rush into the +marriage state whilst children, or wait until the bloom and hopes of +youth have forever passed away, in order to form interested matches. The +matured period of five-and-twenty to thirty, is passed by the lower +classes in the single state in labor to gain subsistence; after thirty, +or even forty, we often find them marrying. But the majority have sealed +their own fate before the age of twenty. + +"In high life, the same haste to dispose of daughters prevails as among +the lowest classes. At seventeen, most of our belles of fashion expect +to receive proposals. If they do not marry within a few years after +their introduction, they have a mortified sense of having lost +time--that the expectations of friends and of parents have not been +fulfilled; that others have 'gone off' before them. The next ten years +are often a period of subdued vexation, and the sweetness and +contentment of the original character is impaired. About seven or eight +and twenty, the views of life are sobered--the expectations chastened--a +renovation takes place--women again become agreeable; their minds must +in the lapse of time, even with a miserable store of observation, have +improved. They then often marry--and, if the union be not a mere effort +of despair, if it be based on sound and holy principles, and on good +sense, there is, for both parties engaged, a great likelihood of +happiness. + +"But, it may be naturally contended, that there come not to _all_ young +ladies the opportunities of which I write; that indications of +preference arrive not to all. I am inclined to believe that, with good +temper, pleasing manners, and respectable connections, there exists, in +modern society, very few young ladies who have not received under +various circumstances, some marks of preference, more or less decided. +Beauty and plainness are arbitrary, not positive, terms. Unless there be +any actual deformity, any great infirmity, in which case I think it were +cruel to pre-suppose the likelihood of such indications, there is no +one, that I hardly ever met with, who has not had, on some grounds, her +partizans and admirers. The plain are often particularized as elegant; +tastes vary: even a sour look I have heard admired as sensible, cold +manners eulogized as correct. Opinion, however it may generally verge to +the correct, springs from so many sources, it is so governed by +association of ideas, such trifles may guide it, that I am never +surprised at the latitude given to personal encomium nor at the endless +variety and incongruity of human judgment. It is well that all have a +chance of being approved, admired, beloved, and it remains for them to +avail themselves of those possibilities which contribute so much to +happiness. For we are sympathizing beings, and a law of our nature makes +us look for a return of sympathy. We are sent here to form ties, and to +love, and to be loved, whether the term applies to parental, or filial, +or fraternal love--or whether it respects the less sure and more fitful +experiences of love, in its ordinary sense. + +"I do not blame the parents who instil into their children of both sexes +a desire to be married. I think those who teach the young a different +lesson deceive them. Marriage, with all its chances, its infelicities, +its sacrifices, is seldom so infelicitous, so uncertain, so full of +sacrifice, as the single state. Life must have some objects, and those +objects must be progressive. The mind is happier and healthier with +such interests, even if sorrow comes along with them, than in its +solitude, its desolate freedom from care, when having, as the phrase is, +no troubles of the conjugal sort to disturb its tranquillity. I +therefore do not censure those who desire to see their daughters happily +and suitably established in life. It is the indiscreet and vulgar haste, +the indelicacy, the low mercenary views, and the equally low ambition to +compass a splendid match, which is blameable and revolting in the +parental conduct. + +"Many are, however, blessed with guides and guardians of very different +characters; with parents, whose lofty natures not only reject such +unworthy notions, but somewhat incline to the extreme of repelling all +advances for their daughters. In either case, the conduct of a young +lady may be the same. It is she who must form her own destiny in points +on which none can effectually aid her. It is she who is to be the happy +wife, or the wretched victim; and it is to her that these observations +of admonition and of warning are addressed. Let us suppose her young, of +course, attractive in appearance, of good birth, and some fortune. I +here except heiresses, who, being anomalies, deserve a particular +paragraph for themselves. But let us suppose that no obstacle of family +or connection interferes to check the approach of a suitor. + +"The eyes of her family and of her young friends are upon her, when a +young lady receives the first indications of preference. She is +generally ashamed of it. This is the first sentiment of a modest and +ingenuous mind, and it is one indication, in my opinion, of the +impropriety of early marriages. Nature seems still to wish to keep the +young and blushing girl apart from that connection which entails grave +and arduous duties. But Nature's voice is far less often heard than that +of her adversary, expediency. I must, therefore, shape my injunctions to +that which exists, not to that which we would wish to exist. + +"Almost sinking under this painful sense of shame, this novel +disturbance of her usual set of feelings, a young girl catches at the +first reed to save herself from observation and detection. I mean +detection of her perception of that which others may or may not see. She +seizes upon ridicule. She pretends to laugh at one, whom sometimes her +youthful romantic fancy dwells upon in a very different sense. She +laughs at the foibles, supposed or real, of her admirer: she plays a +dangerous game. If any of those to whom she imparts her witticisms are +malevolently disposed or thoughtless, she runs a risk either of wounding +the feelings of a man whom she does not like, or of losing the regard of +one whom she might in time not only esteem, but love. + +"Another effect of such attentions as awaken a consciousness in a young +lady's mind, is the gratification of vanity, perhaps until then latent +in her heart. The first preference is apt to upset the reason of its +object as of him who shows it. The word vanity does not seem to imply +danger. Vanity is generally considered an innocent failing; but it is +innocent only as some kinds of food are to a healthy subject. On a weak, +or even on an inexperienced mind, it acts, sometimes, fatally for the +vain. A girl is either carried away by admiration so as to be flippant +and foolish, or she is blinded by her vanity to the failings of the man +who first admires her. She is intoxicated with the notion of an offer +of marriage; she imagines, in her simplicity, effervesced as it is by +the infusion of flattered vanity, that she has inspired such an +attachment as will never be recovered, should she prove adverse to it. +Many an engagement has been formed under this conviction, and fulfilled +only to prove its fallacy, for the love which was supposed too strong to +survive disappointment, has expired in the fruition of its hopes. + +"To guard against either of these risks to happiness, a well-educated +girl should endeavor, in this, to exercise her judgment. She should be +sincere. She is blameable to ridicule the attentions which are meant as +complimentary to her. They ought to be at least regarded with respect. + +"Should they not be acceptable, she is inexcusable to requite them with +levity and disdain. Let her reflect how she would like such conduct +herself. Besides, she is often making a bitter enemy; perhaps she is +exciting fierce and unamiable sentiments in one who otherwise might have +been regarded as a mild and worthy individual. Let her be undeceived if +she supposes that in thus doing she is carrying herself with dignity, or +acquiring any added admiration from others. She ceases, in thus acting, +to support the characteristics of a gentlewoman, which are mildness, +courtesy, and reserve. If she cherishes, in spite of her pretended +disgust, a secret partiality for the individual who distinguishes her, +if she is lowering the esteem of a man whom she prefers, she not only +incurs the hazard of losing his regard, but she is scattering ridicule +on one whom she afterwards avows as her choice. In that case, she is +lowering herself, or she is sowing the seeds of distrust in the minds of +those who know her--she is, perhaps, frustrating and delaying her own +happiness. Let her act with candor, with consideration, with good sense, +and all this web which her folly would weave around her will not +embarrass her. Let her not madly and obstinately resist the advice of +those on whose affection to her, and on whose good judgment, experience +has taught her to rely. Let her be a child in nothing except humility; +let her listen to counsels; yet her own heart must decide for her--none +can know so well as herself its secret throbs, or the impression of +dislike or of regard which has been made upon it. + +"I am, I confess, an enemy to trying to like a person, as I have rarely +seen such a mental process end in happiness to either party. If an +advantageous proposal offer itself, it is wiser decidedly to refuse it, +than to trust to the slow growth of affection, upon a foundation of +original dislike. And the trials of married life are such,--its +temptations to irritability and contention are so manifold, its +anxieties so unforseen and so complicated, that few can steer their +difficult course safely and happily, unless there be a deep and true +attachment, to contend with all the storms which may arise in the +navigation. + +"Deeply impressed with this conviction, should it be the lot of any +young lady in whom I were interested to form a real, well-grounded +attachment to a man whose circumstances were indifferent, I should +counsel her, provided she can depend on the character and exertions of +the object so beloved, to risk the event of an engagement--to trust to +time and Providence, and to marry whenever means were afforded,--convinced +as I am, that patience, and trust, and true affection, raise the +character, and are acceptable in the eyes of our Heavenly Father. But +in such a case, she must school her mind to meet the anxieties which +attend limited means. She must prepare herself, by habits of diligence +and economy, to become a poor man's wife. She must learn the difficult +art of doing well upon a little. She must not, be she in any rank of +life, think to indulge with impunity to herself in every refinement and +luxury when she is single; and, upon her marriage, imagine that she can +attain the practice of economy by wishing it. Such metamorphoses are out +of reason--out of nature. She must endeavor before the bond which ties +her to poverty is framed, to understand the duties of housekeeping, the +mysteries of needle-work. She must lay down to herself rules of +expenditure suitable, in part, to her future condition in life. Many a +wife, thus commencing, has laid the foundations of future fortune, at +least independence, to her husband, by keeping his mind at peace, during +his progress up the steep ascent to professional, or clerical, or +literary fame. Many a home has been cheered by domestic forbearance, and +placid submission to circumstances, even in the higher classes, during +the life-time of a father, or in the course of those long expectancies, +in which the fortitude and principle of many of the aristocracy are +tried and proved. But the self-denial, the cheerfulness, the good +management, the strict principle, are formed at an earlier period than +that in which a young lady gives her hand to him whom she has chosen, +in spite of the frown of fortune, as her husband. + +"Of this let the young be assured; there are few situations in life, in +which a man, young, and in health, cannot meliorate his circumstances, +if he possess energy and if he be stimulated by a true affection. The +clergyman, with humble stipend, often hopeless from want of interest, +has leisure--he has had education. He may, if he desires to assist +himself, have recourse to literary labor, or to tuition. If he make not +such exertion, during the course of an engagement, what hope can there +be of him in future life? + +"The young lawyer, however tedious his advancement, however few his +opportunities, may also distinguish himself in a literary career. +Innumerable are the subjects open to one of such a profession. How few +avail themselves of the chance! Upon this rely, the man truly in love +will make the effort. To the military man, though perhaps he may be less +qualified, the same course is open, in a degree. Some of our best +travels, some of our most amusing literary productions, have been the +compositions of military men. And the advantage of this mode of aiding a +small fortune is, that a man not only does not lower, but he raises his +position by it, if his works are moral, written in a gentlemanly spirit, +and affording information. However deep the attachment, however +agreeable the object, if a man be indisposed to help himself to +independence and competence, I should counsel no woman to continue an +engagement formed in the expectation of 'times mending.' When I +advocate the indulgence of attachment, it is to worthy, not to +unworthy, objects. + +"I now come to speak of moral character. Hard is the contest between +affection and expediency, when it is raised by the question of +circumstances. But harder still is it, when its result is to be decided +upon an inquiry into moral conduct. I know not a more cruel situation +than that when the heart is bestowed on one whom the judgment could not +approve. I know not one which should be more strictly guarded against, +not only by parents and friends, but (for I would impress on every young +lady how much she may prove the best guardian of her own happiness) by +the female heart itself. + +"With every vigilance, with little to blame, little to repent, such +cases will occur in this world. The feelings are interested, but the +judgment distrusts. Happy is it for those who know the combat between +affection and principle only in single life, and have not the misery of +encountering so severe a destiny when it can no longer be remedied--who +know not how to fulfill the vow to honor what is proved to be +unworthy--and yet still must love,--for the affections once given, are +little in our own power. + +"In such a case occurring to the young, in, perhaps, a first attachment, +I think they must be guided by friends. I am _not_ an advocate for the +interference of friends: where it is much a question of a long and +contingent engagement--a question of being married at once, or of +waiting, in some uncertainty--a question of ease or discomfort, of +limited means or luxury--in such instances, if the moral character be +unexceptionable, it is the duty of parents to point out all the risk, +all the disadvantages, but to leave the heart to form its own decisions. +Let them not seek to wrench the affections from the channel in which +they flowed, when fresh from their source. They cannot know how deep the +channel is--they cannot know if ever those pure and beautiful waters +will flow in peace again when once hastily turned aside. But in cases of +moral character, of right or wrong, the affair is wholly different, and +the strictest parental authority ought, upon due inquiry, to be +exercised. + +"Submission and self-control are then the duty of the young +sufferer--for a sufferer she truly _is_;--no page of her after-history +could unfold a bitterer pang. But peace and hope come at last--the +struggle, though violent, leaves behind it none of that corroding +sorrow, which would have accompanied the acquiescence of parents in a +union unblessed by a Providence, whose will is that all should be pure, +even as He above is pure. Had your fond wishes been granted, young and +trusting being, how fearful would have been your condition! For there is +no suspicion so revolting to an innocent mind as that which unseats love +from his throne in our affections, and places another in his stead. Be +assured of this--little can you know of the moral conduct of the other +sex; little is it desirable that you should know. But whenever +improprieties are so flagrant as to be matters of conversation; when the +good shun, and the pitying forbear to excuse; be assured some deeper +cause than you can divine exists for the opprobrium. Think not that your +empire over affections thus wasted can be a real one. It is transient, +it will not last--it will not bring reformation--it will never be +adequately requited. Throw yourself on the judgment of those whose +interest in you has been life-long, or of such as you know truly regard +your happiness; conquer the unhallowed preference; pray for support and +guidance; trust in Him who 'catereth for the sparrow.' + +"But, when the commencement of life is chilled by so cruel a +sorrow--when the blight has fallen on the bud--we must not only look up +to heavenly aid, we must take every means of care for an unfortunate, +and, when once the judgment is convinced of the unworthiness of the +object, a blameable attachment. How often, in the Psalms, in the +Gospels, the word 'Help' is reiterated! We are to help ourselves--we +must work for our heavenly peace on earth--the mental discipline, to +prosper, must be aided by divine grace, but its springs must be from our +own hearts. And, to fulfill the will of God in this, as in the other +events of life, let us take such means as may aid us in the work of +self-government. + +"In the first place, let employment be resorted to by the sorrowing, do +not indulge in tears; do not sit alone: abstain, for a time, from music; +abstain from the perusal of poetry, or works of imagination. They still +more soften the feelings and open up the sources of grief. Read works of +_fact_--endeavor to occupy yourself with the passing events of the +world. And, when the overburdened heart cannot be comforted, or its +thoughts diverted--for there will be moments too mournful to be +resisted--go forth into the fields, go to the houses of the poor--see +the goodness and mercy of God--see too, the patience and long-suffering +of the poor, who may often set the rich an example of fortitude. Occupy +yourself, if you can, with children; their freshness, their joyful +unconsciousness, the elasticity of their spirits, will sustain and draw +you from yourself, or have recourse to the soothing calmness of the +aged. Hear them converse upon the affairs of life; how they appreciate +the importance of each passing event, as a traveler does the ruts and +inequalities of the road he has traversed. How their confidence in the +effect of time sustains you! and you turn from them, reflecting on all +that the happiest of them must necessarily have endured. Be assured of +your own recovery, under an influence so certain. + +"Avoid young persons of your own age. If possible, except to a sister, +whose deep interest in you will probably teach her a superior lesson, +never confide in young friends, a similar trial as that to which I have +referred. In general, your resolution will be weakened, your feelings +re-excited, your confidence in your best advisers will be shaken. For +the young usually take the part of the rejected lover--they delight in +that dangerous species of sympathy which flatters with hope. They are +naturally incredulous as to the delinquencies of a man who is agreeable, +and in love; they incline to the notion of the hard-heartedness of +fathers, uncles, and elder brothers; and even, if they happen to possess +good sense, or to exercise the rare quality of prudence in such matters, +the very communication of any sorrow, or the recital of any feelings, +gives not only a merely temporary relief, but deadens that sorrow and +strengthens those feelings, which grow every time they are imparted. If +you wish to recover--and, if you have a sound and well-disposed mind, +you _will_ wish to recover--you must, after the first burst of grief is +over, speak but rarely of a theme too painful and delicate to bear the +contact of rude minds--too dangerous to dwell upon with those of a +kindlier and loftier nature. + +"To your female relations--to your mother, more especially, too great an +openness cannot be practiced on these points, but openness does not +imply a perpetual recurrence to a theme, which must wear out patience +and exhaust all but maternal sympathy, in time. For maternal sympathy is +exhaustless; be generous, and restrain, from that very reflection, the +continual demand upon its flow. The first person to consult, the last to +afflict--a mother--should not be the victim of her daughter's feelings. +Her judgment should not be weakened by the incessant indulgence of a +daughter's sorrows. + +"I would, on many grounds, caution the young against hasty engagements. +It seems extraordinary that the welfare of a life should often be +determined upon the acquaintance of a few weeks. The principles, it is +true, may be ascertained from the knowledge of others, the manners may +please, the means and expectations may all be clearly understood. But +the temper--that word of unspeakable import--the daily habits, the power +of constancy--these are not to be known without a long and severe +examination of the motives, and a daily observation of the conduct, of +others. Very little suffices to mar the happiness of married life, if +that little proceed in the character of a man, from a rooted +selfishness. + +"It is true, in regard to this defect, that much may be done by a wife +to meliorate a vice of character which is, in some, only the result of +never having had their feelings developed. But if there exist not this +excuse--if, in spite of ties, which are dearer to an affectionate mind +than existence; you find a man preferring his own comfort to that of +those whom he professes to love--if you find him imperious to his +servants, dictatorial to sisters, on cool terms with brothers, there is +little hope that the mental disease will ever be rooted out, so as to +leave a healthy character of mind. Examine well into this point; for a +hasty temper may be remedied, and even endured--but the deep, slow, +sullen course of a selfish nature wears away hope, imparts a cankering +care, and, with it, often disgust. No defect is so little to be resisted +as selfishness. It creeps into every detail; it infects the minutest +affairs of life as well as the greatest concerns. It depresses the +humble sufferer from its baneful effects; it irritates the passions of +the unamiable. Study well the character in trifles; nor venture to risk +your bark on the sea of matrimony, unless you know well how far this +man, whom you might prefer, is free from this deadly infection. View +him, if possible, in his home, before you pledge your faith with +his--or, if that be not practicable, reflect upon the general course of +his actions, of his sentiments, and endeavor dispassionately to judge +them, as best you may." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +BRIDAL ETIQUETTE. + + +In preparing a bridal outfit, it is best to furnish the wardrobe for at +least two years, in under-clothes, and one year in dresses, though the +bonnet and cloak, suitable for the coming season, are all that are +necessary, as the fashions in these articles change so rapidly. If you +are going to travel, have a neat dress and cloak of some plain color, +and a close bonnet and veil. Avoid, as intensely vulgar, any display of +your position as a _bride_, whilst traveling. + +Take, first, the weddings at church. In this case none are invited to +the ceremony excepting the family, and the reception is at the house of +the bride's mother, or nearest relative, either on the wedding-day or +upon her return from the bridal tour. + +In sending out the invitations, let the card of the bridegroom and that +of the bride be tied together with a white ribbon, and folded in the +note paper upon which is printed the name of the bride's mother, with +the date of the reception-day, thus:-- + + MRS. JOHN SAUNDERS. + At home, Thursday, Oct. 16th, + from 11 till 2. + + No. 218, ---- st. + +of course the hours and dates vary, but the form is the same. + +If there is no bridal reception upon the wedding day, the cards are +worded:-- + + MR. AND MRS. JAMES SMITH. + At home, Wednesdays, + On, and after, June 6th. + + No. 17, ---- st. + +Tie the card with the bride's maiden name upon it to this one. + +Enclose the invitation in a white envelope, and tie it with white satin +ribbon. If you send cake, have it put in a white box, and place the note +outside the cover, tying it fast with white satin ribbon. + +The bride's dress must be of white entirely. If she is married in the +morning, a plain white silk, white mantle, and white bonnet, full +trimmed with orange flowers, with a plain veil, is the most suitable +dress, and she may wear a richer one at her reception, when she returns +from her bridal tour. + +As soon as the carriages come, let the bridesmaids, and relatives set +off first.--Last, the bride with her parents. The bride, her parents, +and the bridesmaids go immediately to the vestry, where they meet the +bridegroom, and the groomsmen. The father of the bride gives her his arm +and escorts her to the altar, the bridegroom walking on the other side. +Then follow the bridesmaids and groomsmen in couples. + +When they reach the altar the bridegroom removes his right hand glove, +but the bride keeps hers on until the clergyman takes the ring. The +first bridesmaid then removes the left hand glove, and it is not +resumed. The bridesmaids should wear white dresses, white mantles, and +bonnets, but not veils or orange flowers. + +The bride and groom leave the church first, after the ceremony is over, +and take the carriage with the parents of the bride, and the others +follow in the order in which they came. + +If there is a breakfast or morning reception, the bride will not change +her dress until she retires to put on her traveling attire. If the +wedding takes place in the evening at church, to be followed by a full +dress reception at home, the bride should wear a white lace dress over +satin, or any other material to suit her own taste, a veil, falling from +her head to her feet, fastened to the hair by a coiffure of orange +flowers; white kid gloves, and white satin slippers. A bouquet, if +carried, should contain only white flowers. + +The bridesmaids may wear white, or some thin, light-colored material +over white, a head-dress of flowers, and carry bouquets of mixed +flowers. + +When the wedding takes place at home, let the company assemble in the +front drawing-room, and close the doors between that and the back room. +In the back room, let the bride, bridegroom, bridesmaids, and groomsmen, +the parents of the bride, and the clergyman, assemble. The clergyman +should stand in the centre of the room, the bride and groom before him, +the bridesmaids ranged beside the bride, the groomsmen beside the +bridegroom. Then open the doors and let the ceremony begin. This +arrangement saves that awkwardness attendant upon entering the room and +taking the position before a large company. + +After the ceremony is over, the parents of the bride speak to her first; +then her near relatives, and not until then the other members of the +company. + +It is not usual now to have dancing, or even music, at a wedding, and +the hour is named upon the cards, at which the guests are expected to +retire. + +A very pretty effect is produced in the wedding group, if the bride +wears pure white, and the bridesmaids white, with flowers and trimmings +of a different color. Thus, one in white, with a head-dress and trimming +of green leaves; another, white, with blue ribbons and forget-me-nots; +another, white, with pink roses and ribbons. + +If the wedding is in the morning, the bride and family may wear full +dress; in that case the shutters should be closed and the rooms lighted +as in the evenings. + +Let the supper be laid early, and ready when the ceremony is over, that +the guests may pass into the dining-room, if they wish, as soon as they +have spoken to the bride. If a morning wedding, let the table be set as +for an evening wedding. + +If the bride gives a reception at her own house, after her return from +her bridal tour, she should not wear her wedding-dress. If in the +evening, a supper should be set. If a morning reception, let her wear a +handsome light silk, collar and sleeves of lace. Wine and cake are +sufficient to hand to each guest at a morning reception. At an evening +reception let the bride wear full dress, but not her wedding-dress. + +At parties given to a newly married couple, the bridesmaids and +groomsmen are always invited, and the whole party are expected to wear +the same dresses as at the wedding. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +HINTS ON HEALTH. + + +The universal remark of travelers visiting America, as well as the +universal complaint of Americans themselves, relates to the ill health +of the fairer portion of the community. Look where you will, go to any +city in the vast Union, the remark and complaint will be made +everywhere. With every natural advantage of climate, yet from North to +South, East to West the cry resounds. + +Foreigners, admiring the dark-eyed girls of the southern states or the +blondes of the northern ones, will remark, with comments upon beauty:-- + +"But she looks delicate, poor thing!--Not strong? Ah! I thought not, +none of the American women are, and how soon these young beauties fade!" + +It seems to me, amongst the subjects treated of in my present work, that +a few words on health will not come amiss. + +"Light and sunshine are needful for your health. Get all you can; keep +your windows clean. Do not block them up with curtains, plants, or +bunches of flowers;--these last poison the air, in small rooms. + +"Fresh air is needful for your health. As often as you can, open all +your windows, if only for a short time in bad weather; in fine weather, +keep them open, but never sit in draughts. When you get up, open the +windows wide, and throw down the bed-clothes, that they may be exposed +to fresh air some hours, daily, before they are made up. Keep your +bed-clothes clean; hang them to the fire when you can. Avoid wearing at +night what you wear in the day. Hang up your day-clothes at night. +Except in the severest weather, in small, crowded sleeping-rooms, a +little opening at the top of the window-sash is very important; or you +will find one window pane of perforated zinc very useful. You will not +catch cold half so easily by breathing pure air at night. Let not the +beds be directly under the windows. Sleeping in exhausted air creates a +desire for stimulants. + +"Pure water is needful for your health. Wash your bodies as well as your +faces, rubbing them all over with a coarse cloth. If you cannot wash +thus every morning, pray do so once a week. Crying and cross children +are often pacified by a gentle washing of their little hands and +faces--it soothes them. Babies' heads should be washed carefully, every +morning with soap. No scurf should be suffered to remain upon them. Get +rid of all slops and dirty water at once. Disease, and even death, is +often the consequence of our own negligence. Wash your rooms and +passages at least once a week, use plenty of clean water; but do not let +your children stay in them while they are wet, it may bring on croup or +inflammation of the chest. If you read your Bibles, which it is +earnestly hoped you do, you will find how cleanliness, both as to the +person and habitation, was taught to the Jews by God himself; and we +read in the 4th chapter of Nehemiah that when they were building their +second temple, and defending their lives against their foes, having no +time for rest, they contrived to put off their clothes for washing. It +is a good old saying, that _cleanliness is next to godliness_. See Heb. +x. 22. + +"Wholesome food is needful for your health. Buy the most strengthening. +Pieces of fresh beef and mutton go the farthest. Eat plenty of fresh +salt with food; it prevents disease. Pray do not let your children waste +their pennies in tarts, cakes, bull's eyes, hardbake, sour fruit, &c., +they are very unwholesome, and hurt the digestion. People would often, +at twenty years of age, have a nice little sum of money to help them on +in the world, if they had put in the savings' bank the money so wasted; +Cocoa is cheaper and much more nourishing than _tea_. None of these +liquids should be taken _hot_, but lukewarm; when hot they inflame the +stomach, and produce indigestion. + +"We are all made to breathe the pure air of heaven, and therefore much +illness is caused by being constantly in-doors. Let all persons make a +point, whenever it is possible, of taking exercise in the _open air_ for +at least an hour and a half _daily_. _Time_ would be saved in the long +run by the increased energy and strength gained, and by the warding off +of disease." + +Let it not be supposed that it is not the duty of every young lady to +take due care of her health, and to preserve in all its power of utility +every portion of vigor which has been bestowed on her. + +With many young ladies, it appears to be a maxim to do everything in +their power to destroy the health which is so much wanted in the real +business of life, and which forms so important a requisite to happiness. +In the first place, as to hours--they never leave the ball-room until +utterly exhausted, and scarcely fit to crawl to bed. The noon-day sleep, +the scarcely touched breakfast, that most important meal, are followed +by preparations for the succeeding night's pleasures, or in head-aching +morning calls, driving about in a close carriage, or lounging on a sofa, +in an over-heated room, reading novels. + +Dressing follows; the warm wrapper or dress is thrown aside; over the +tightly drawn corsets is fastened a flimsy dress, with an inch of +sleeve; the neck laid bare; thin stockings drawn on, in place of thick +ones, and the consumption-seeker goes forth to the ball-room again. + +"At times, you miss from the gay assemblage some former ornament--you +inquire about her--she has taken cold. Inflammation of the lungs, caught +it in an accidental draught of air by one of these fair half-dressed +beings, carried off, not long since, one of the gayest and fairest of +the belles of the season--after an illness of three days. + +"Preservation of the health ought, from an early stage of existence, to +be enforced as a duty upon the young. To walk daily; to have daily +recourse, in summer, even twice a day, to the sponging with cold water, +or the shower-bath;--to eat sufficiently of plain, nutritious food; to +keep the mind calm--these are _duties_;--they should be habitually +exercised. Care should be taken not to come out heated, with a shawl +just pinned across the shoulders, from a heated room. Where there is +delicacy of the lungs or windpipe, yet not sufficient to render a +withdrawal from evening parties necessary, the use of a respirator at +night is desirable. It is usual to have recourse to this valuable +invention only when disease is actually existing--as a preventive, it is +neglected. Yet, preserving the temperature of a warm room, it is an +excellent precaution, and can easily be assumed when the shawl or cloak +is put on. The atmosphere of a city is destructive where there is any +pulmonary delicacy, and who shall say, where there is _not_ pulmonary +delicacy? In this climate, there is a tendency to it, more or less, in +almost every family,--at all events, it is too easily induced in our +predisposed constitutions, by cold, aided by the debilitating effect of +heated rooms and an artificial mode of existence, and accelerated also, +most decidedly, by bared shoulders. For, in this climate, it is scarcely +ever safe to lay bare that portion of the frame, the back and chest in +which the lungs are seated; and, although custom may greatly lead to +diminish the injurious effects, the sudden chill may strike, and may +never be recovered. + +"During every season, certain people have 'head colds,' coughs, and +'feverish colds.' These are produced by certain states of climate acting +on certain states of constitution. At particular seasons such complaints +abound--at others they abound still more; and again, from some +singularity, they prevail so much that people say, there is an +_Influenza_. + +"Influenza has been long known in the world. It has often visited +Europe; and made its appearance on our shores with greater severity +than at present. It has sometimes been very severe, and left many +persons ill for a year or two. + +"The symptoms of influenza need not be dwelt on, as they have been so +generally felt by our readers or their friends. It varies in different +people, to be sure, both in kind and in degree. Considering the number +of people it attacks, it may be looked on as an innocent disease; but, +on the other hand, looking at the increase it has made in the number of +deaths, it is an exceedingly serious one after all. + +"In simple cases--confinement to a pure and temperate air, warm drinks, +and a warm bath, or, at least, a warm foot-bath, with an extra blanket, +and a little more rest than usual, keeping to mild food, and toast and +water, and taking, if necessary, a dose of aperient medicine,--is all +that is required. In serious cases, the domestic treatment must become +professional. Mustard plasters to the back relieve the headache. Squills +find other medicines 'loosen' the outstanding cough. Bark and wine, and +even cold baths are sometimes requisite for the weakness left behind. +But these things can only be used with discrimination by a regular +professional man. + +"Supposing that the seeds of disease have not been laid in childhood, +and that there is no particular predisposition to any malady in the +constitution, a young woman enters life with every fair prospect of +enjoying tolerable health;--yet, how variable, and delicate, and +complaining, do the majority of women become! What a vast expense is +incurred, during the course of their lives, in physicians, medicine, +change of air, baths abroad and at home, and journeys! How few women can +walk,--or can suppress nervous feelings,--or can eat like reasonable +beings: how many suffer, or say they suffer from debility, headaches, +dyspepsia, a tendency to colds, eternal sore throats, rheumatic attacks, +and the whole list of polite complaints! With all our modern wisdom, +with all our books on health, our smatterings of physiological science, +our open carriages, sponging baths, and attention to diet, women now are +a far more feeble race than our grandmothers, or even our mothers, were. +What daughter can walk half as far as her mother can? What young woman +can take the active part that her mother did? In most families, the +order of things is reversed. It is not a child trembling for her +mother's health, and fearing, lest her parent, no longer young, should +be fatigued; but it is the mother who is always striving to spare her +child exertions which she can herself perfectly well undergo, but which +the enfeebled child of modern self-indulgence dare not encounter. + +"Yes! we are a self-indulgent race, this present generation. Witness our +easily excited feelings; witness our late hours of rising, our sofas and +easy chairs, our useless days and dissipated nights! Witness our pallid +faces, our forms, sometimes attenuated and repulsive while yet in early +life, age marching, not creeping, on before his time; or witness our +over-fed and over-expanded forms, enfeebled by indolence, and suffering +the worst species of debility--the debility of _fat_. Witness our doing +those things by deputy which our grandmothers did themselves; witness +our host of scents and perfumed waters on our dressing-tables; our +over-refinement, which amounts to an enervating puerility, and our +incapacity of parting with one accustomed indulgence, even at the +bidding of the learned and disinterested adviser? + +"'In the education of women,' writes a modern physician, 'too little +attention is given to subdue the imaginative faculty, and to moderate +sensibility; on the contrary, they are generally fostered; and, instead +of a vigorous intellect and healthy condition of mind, we find +imagination and sentiment predominant over the reasoning faculties, and +laying the foundation of hysterical, hypochondriacal, and even maniacal +diseases.'[B] It is, in fact, this want of judgment in the management of +early life that produces so much misery when women are called upon to +perform an important part in society, and when all that exertion can do +is required at their hands. + +[B] "The Sick-Room," by Dr. A. T. Thomson. + +"The duration of sleep should not, in the adult, exceed six or eight +hours; women injure their health greatly by excess in this respect. On +rising, all women should use some mode of cold or tepid bath; and, +indeed, in this respect the practice of the present day is admirable; +there is every facility for the bath. To some, the use of the +shower-bath is deleterious, and to all inconvenient, and not likely to +be resorted to except when positively ordered. Dr. Combe recommends for +_general_ use the tepid or warm bath, as being much more suitable than +the cold bath, 'especially in the winter for those who are not robust, +and full of animal heat.' When the constitution is not sufficiently +vigorous to ensure reaction after the cold bath, by producing a warm +glow over the surface, 'its use,' observes the same admirable writer, +'inevitably does harm.' But he enforces, that 'in order to promote a due +exhalation from the skin, the warm, the tepid, or the shower-bath, as a +means of preserving health, ought to be in as common use as a change of +apparel, for it is equally a measure of necessary cleanliness.' He +inclines to the use of the tepid bath, as likely to be the most +generally efficacious. + +"I have known the most beneficial effects from a modification of this +advice, namely, from using a sponging-bath, into which you pour a jug of +warm water, and in which you stand, whilst you sponge the body and limbs +profusely with cold water. A strong friction should be employed after +this process, either with horsehair gloves or with a large coarse towel, +and few persons will find the use of the sponging-bath disagree with +them when thus employed. It is, indeed, incredible, when we consider the +importance of the exhalation performed by the skin, to what extent +ablution is neglected, not only, as Dr. Combe specifies, in charitable +institutions and seminaries for the young, but by ladies, in ordinary +circumstances, to whom the use of the bath could be productive of no +inconvenience. In nervous complaints, which are more or less the +besetting evil of womankind, the bath, in its various forms, becomes an +invaluable aid. + +"In the formation of those habits which are necessary for the +preservation of health, another circumstance, which, from its importance +to health, cannot be deemed trifling should be mentioned. It is a +general practice that beds should be made as soon as the occupants have +left their rooms, and before the air has been freely admitted to play +upon the recent depositary of the human frame; but this should be +avoided. The bed-linen and blankets should be taken off, and the windows +opened, so that, for an hour or more, a thorough ventilation should be +procured. + +"Upon another point, the inconsistency and mental blindness of women are +almost inconceivable--the insufficiency of their dress to resist the +attacks of our variable climate. How few women clothe themselves like +rational beings! Although, in latter years, they have wisely adopted the +use of warm dresses, and, more especially, of the valuable Scottish +plaid, yet how commonly they neglect the aid of flannel in preserving +them not only from cold, but in securing a necessary circulation of +vitality in the skin! 'The necessary effect of deficient circulation in +the skin,' remarks Dr. Combe, 'is to throw a disproportionate mass of +blood inwards; and when this condition exists, insufficient clothing +perpetuates the evil, until internal disease is generated, and health is +irrecoverably lost.' How common is the complaint among young women, +especially those of sedentary habits, of chilliness, cold feet, and +other symptoms of deficient circulation! and yet how impossible would it +often be--for women are usually obstinate on this head--to induce them +to exchange the thin silk stocking for a warm merino one, or to +substitute a proper walking shoe for the paper-like articles which they +designate by that name! Hence arise many diseases, which are, by +insensible degrees, fostered in the system by the unequal distribution +of the blood oppressing the internal organs. The habitual tendency to +that chilliness which has been referred to should never be disregarded, +'laying, as it does,' says Dr. Combe, 'the foundation of tubercles in +the lungs, and other maladies, which show themselves only when arrived +at an incurable stage.' 'All those who value health, and have common +sense, will therefore take warning from signs like these, and never rest +until equilibrium of action be restored.' Warm clothing, exercise in the +open air, sponging with tepid water and vinegar, or the warm bath, the +use of a flesh-brush or hair-glove, are adapted to remedy these serious +and threatening evils. + +"But, whilst insufficiency of clothing is to be deprecated, excessive +wrapping up should also be avoided. Great differences exist between the +power of generating heat and resisting cold in individuals, and it is +therefore impossible to prescribe general rules upon the subject of +clothing. The best maxim is, not to dress in an invariable way in all +cases, but to put on clothing sufficient in the individual case, to +protect the body effectively against the sensation of cold.[C] + +[C] Dr. Combe. + +"The insufficiency of warmth in the clothing of females constitutes only +one part of its injurious effects. The tightness of dress obstructs the +insensible perspiration hurtfully, and produces an irregular +circulation. Every part and function of the human frame are linked +together so closely, that we cannot act wrongly towards one organ +without all suffering, nor act rightly without all sharing the benefit +of our judgment and good sense. + +"The mischief arising from cold or wet feet is admitted by all persons +who have given the subject of health even the most casual consideration. +In conversing with very aged people, you will generally find a disregard +of diet, and very different notions and practices upon the subject of +exercise and ablution; but they all agree in the necessity of keeping +the feet dry. I remember inquiring of a venerable clergyman, who, up to +the age of ninety-six, had enjoyed a fair proportion of health, after a +youth of delicacy. I asked him what system he pursued. 'Now,' was his +reply, 'I never took much care what I ate; I have always been temperate. +I never minded the weather; but I always took care to keep my feet dry +and well shod.' Wet and damp are, indeed, more unwholsome when applied +to the feet than when they affect other parts; 'because they receive a +greater supply of blood to carry on a high degree of perspiration, and +because their distance from the heart, or centre of circulation, +diminishes the force with which this is carried on, and thus leaves them +more susceptible from external causes.'[D] + +[D] Dr. Combe. + +"God, in his infinite benevolence, has given to his creatures other +means of acquiring a healthy warmth than by clothing; he has endowed us +with the power of exercise--that blessing which women of weak judgment +and indolent natures are so prone to neglect and disparage. Most ladies +appear to think that the privilege of walking is only intended for +persons of inferior condition. They busy themselves, in their in-door +occupations all the morning, take a hearty luncheon, and drive out in +their carriages until dinner-time. It is partly owing to such customs +as these that a rapid deterioration takes place in the physical state of +our sex, in their looks, and in their power of utility, and enjoyment of +happiness. God never intended us to be inactive. + +"The chief purpose of the muscles with which we are endowed, is to +enable us to carry into effect the volitions of the mind; and, whilst +fulfilling this grand object, the active exercise of the muscles is +conducive to the well-being of many other important functions. The +processes of digestion, respiration, secretion, absorption, and +nutrition, are promoted, and the healthful condition of the whole body +influenced. The mind also is depressed or exhilarated by the proper or +improper use of muscular exercise; for man is intended for a life of +activity: nor can his functions ever go on so properly as when he duly +exercises those organs with which Nature has endowed him. The evils +arising from want of exercise are numerous:--the circulation, from the +absence of due stimulus, becomes languid, the appetite and digestion are +weakened, the respiration is imperfect, and the blood becomes so +ill-conditioned, that when distributed through the body it is inadequate +to communicate the necessary stimulus to healthy and vigorous action. +These points being established, it now becomes a consideration in what +mode, or at what periods, ladies, in society, can most advantageously +avail themselves of that privilege which is granted to so many, denied, +comparatively, to so few. + +"Much is said on the benefits of walking before breakfast, and to a +person in full vigor it may, there is no doubt, be highly salutary; +whilst, to the delicate, it will prove more hurtful than beneficial, +producing a sense of weariness which destroys all the future pleasures +of the day. I am disposed to think, however, from observation, that +walking before breakfast may be rendered beneficial almost to any one by +degrees. Most persons walk too far the first day; they are proud of the +effort, become, nevertheless, exhausted, and dare not repeat it. A first +walk before breakfast should not exceed a quarter of a mile; it should +be extended, very gradually, and, in delicate women, with great care, +lest over-fatigue should ensue. It is, however, so valuable a habit, +such a saving of time, so refreshing, so soothing, that many sacrifices +of inclination should be made to procure it; in a gay season the +freshness and seclusion of a morning's walk is peculiarly needed, and +when it becomes so difficult to take exercise in the subsequent part of +the day, the afternoon being too short, and the evening too much +occupied. And the morning's walk, stolen from the hour given to a +species of repose which seldom rests, may be, without the reproach of +indolence, followed by the afternoon's siesta--a practice much to be +commended, and greatly conducive to rest of nerves and invigoration of +the frame, when used in moderation. + +"Exercise may be taken, by the robust, at any time, even after eating +heartily, but the delicate ought to avoid that risk; they should resort +to it only when the frame is vigorous enough to bear it, and this is +usually from one to four or five hours after eating. The morning is, +therefore, the best time; but exercise ought not to be delayed until +some degree of exhaustion has taken place from want of food, as in that +case it dissipates rather than renovates the remaining strength, and +impairs digestion. Exercise immediately before meals is therefore, +unless very gentle, injurious; if it has been violent, before eating +rest should intervene. 'Appetite,' says Dr. Combe, 'revives after +repose.' + +"Of all modes of exercise, that which nature has bestowed upon us, +walking, is decidedly the most salutary; and the prevailing system of +substituting horse and carriage exercise almost entirely for it, is far +from being advantageous to the present generation. Walking, which has +for its aim some pleasing pursuit, and, therefore, animates the mind, is +efficacious to the majority. Gardening, which is a modification of +walking, offers many advantages both to the delicate and the strong, and +it is a species of exercise which we can adjust to our powers. In a +continued walk you must go on--you must return; there is no appeal, even +if you have gone too far, and would willingly give up any further +exertion. But, while gardening, you are still at home--your exertions +are devoted to objects the most interesting, because progressive; hope +and faith form a part of your stimulus. The happy future, when flowers +shall bloom around you, supersedes in your thoughts the vexatious +present or the mournful past. About you are the budding treasures of +spring, or the gorgeous productions of summer, or the rich hues of those +beauties which autumn pours forth most lavishly before it departs,--and +is succeeded by winter. Above you are the gay warblers, who seem to hail +you as you mingle in the sylvan scenes which are not all theirs, but +which you share and appropriate. The ruffled temper, the harassed mind, +may find a solace in the occupation of gardening, which aids the effect +of exercise and the benign influence of fresh air. Stores of future and +never-dying interest are buried in the earth with every seed, only to +spring up again redoubled in their value. A lady, as a writer in the +'Quarterly Review' observes, should 'not only _have_ but know her +plants.' And her enjoyment of those delights is truly enhanced by that +personal care, without which few gardens, however superintended by the +scientific gardener, can prosper, and which bless as they thrive; her +plants bestow health on the frame which is bowed down to train +them--they give to her the blessing of a calm and rational +pleasure--they relieve her from the necessity of excitement--they +promote alike, in the wealthy and the poor, these gentle exertions which +are coupled with the most poetical and the sweetest of associations. + +"Exercise on horseback is not equally attainable with the two modes +which I have just specified; when it is, the accelerated circulation, +the change of scene and of ideas, are highly beneficial. Where the lungs +are weak, it is thought by the learned to possess a great advantage over +walking, as it does not hurry the breathing. The gentleness of the +exercise enables a delicate person to enjoy the advantage of open air +and motion for a much longer period than could be endured in the action +of walking. From the tendency of horse exercise to equalize the +circulation and stimulate the skin, it is invaluable, too, for the +nervous and dyspeptic portion of young women, among whom, unhappily, +such complaints are but too prevalent. + +"Dancing, which is the most frequent mode of exercise with ladies in +great cities, practiced, as it is, in heated rooms, and exhausting from +its violence, often does more harm than good, from producing languor and +over-fatigue. Unhappily there are but few modes of exercise in-doors +adapted for women. If, from any circumstances, they are confined to +their homes, and they become feverish and languid from want of exercise, +it never occurs to them to throw open the windows and to walk about, or +to make use of battledore and shuttlecock, or any other mode of +exertion. They continue sitting, reading, or walking, or lounging, or +sleeping, or gossiping,--whilst the bloom of health is rapidly giving +place to the wanness and debility of the imprisoned frame. + +"It is often the custom of young women to declare that they cannot walk, +sometimes from indolence, no doubt, and want of habit, occasionally from +real inability. But if we investigate the causes of this real inability, +we shall often find it to proceed from an improper choice of time in +taking exercise, or from a defective judgment in the manner of taking +it. Many women exhaust and fatigue themselves with the duties of their +house, and by a thousand trying occupations, including that which forms +a serious item in the day's work, namely, running up and down stairs, +and then discover that they cannot walk. Others go to extremes, and walk +for a certain distance, whether they feel fatigued or not by such +exertions. 'It is only,' observes Dr. Combe, 'by a diffusion of the laws +of exercise as a part of useful education, that individuals can be +enabled to avoid such mistakes,' To be beneficial, exercise should +always be proportioned to the strength and to the constitution of an +individual. When it causes extreme fatigue or exhaustion, it is +hurtful; it ought to be resumed always after a period of rest, and +adopted regularly, not, as too many persons are in the habit of doing, +once in four or five days. The average walk which a young woman in good +health and in ordinary circumstances, may take, without undue and +injurious fatigue, is from four to five miles a-day. From this rule I +except the _very_ young. It has been found by experience that until +twenty-two or three the strength is not completely matured. The rate of +mortality, as it has been proved by statistical tables, increases in all +classes of society from fourteen until the age of twenty-three, when it +begins to decrease. + +"Another precaution which I would recommend to those who have the +regulation of families under their care, relates to the subject of +ventilation. The heated state of our rooms in ordinary occupation is one +great source of all those mischiefs which arise from catching cold, a +subject on which Mr. Abernethy was wont to declare, that 'a very useful +book might be written.' There are some houses into which one can never +enter with impunity, from the want of due ventilation. Housemaids, more +especially, have an insupportable objection to opening windows, on +account of the dust which flies in and settles upon the furniture. This +evil--for the soiling of furniture certainly may be called an evil--may +easily be obviated by fastening a muslin blind against the open window, +or by pinning a large piece of coarse muslin against it, so that the +dusty particles will be excluded. + +"Generally our ordinary sitting-rooms are tolerably well ventilated by +the opening and shutting of doors, the size of the fire-place, &c., but +in our bed-rooms the vitiation of the air is far greater, owing to these +rooms being wholly closed during the seven or eight hours in which we +sleep in them, and, also, owing to the mass of curtains with which we +usually take care to surround our beds. In this respect we are, indeed, +improved, by the introduction of French bedsteads, which are among the +most valuable of modern suggestions. But, notwithstanding this +improvement, and many others which reflection and science have +contributed to introduce, we incur much suffering from our ignorance and +prejudice on the subject of ventilation. For generations, society has +experienced the evil effects of the want of ventilation, and has felt in +towns its results in the form of fevers, general ill-health, cutaneous +and nervous diseases; and yet the most direful ignorance continues on +this subject. Hospitals are among the few well-ventilated buildings +which are erected, because an idea prevails that ventilation is +essential for the sick, but it seems to have been forgotten that what is +essential for the recovery of health is equally necessary for its +preservation. 'Were,' says Dr. Combe, 'a general knowledge of the +structure of man to constitute a regular part of a liberal education, +such inconsistencies as this would soon disappear, and the scientific +architect would speedily devise the best means for supplying our houses +with pure air, as he has already supplied them with pure water.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +MISCELLANEOUS. + + +There are many little pieces of rudeness, only too common, which, while +they evince ill-breeding, and are many of them extremely annoying, yet +they are met with every day, and in persons otherwise well-bred. + +As they come under no particular head, they will merely be mentioned +here, as habits carefully to avoid. + +It is rude to look over the shoulder of a person who is either reading +or writing, yet it is done every day. + +To stand with the arms a-kimbo, the hands on the hips, or with the arms +crossed, while conversing, is exceedingly unlady-like. + +Avoid restless movements either with the hands, or feet; to sit +perfectly quiet, without stiffness, easily, yet at the same time almost +motionless, is one of the surest proofs of high-breeding. + +If you wish to make yourself agreeable to any one, talk as much as you +please about his or her affairs, and as little as possible about your +own. + +Avoid passing before persons seated in the same room with yourself. If +you must rise to move from place to place, endeavor to pass behind the +chairs of your companions. Above all, never pass between two persons +who are conversing together. + +Avoid personal remarks; they evince a want of judgment, good taste, +kindness, and politeness. To exchange glances or significant smiles with +a third person, whilst engaged in a conversation with a second, is a +proof of low-breeding. Suppressed laughter, shrugging of the shoulders, +rolling of the eyes, and significant glances are all marks of +ill-breeding. + +If you meet a gentleman at the foot of a flight of stairs, do not go up +before him. Stop, bow, and motion to him to precede you. He will return +your bow, and run up, leaving you to follow him. + +Never whisper, or make any confidential communication in company. Keep +private remarks for private occasions. + +Accepting presents from gentlemen is a dangerous thing. It is better to +avoid any such obligations, and, if you make it a rule _never_ to accept +such presents, you will avoid hurting any one's feelings, and save +yourself from all further perplexity. + +In meeting your elderly friends in the street, look at them long enough +to give them an opportunity of recognizing you; and if they do so, +return their salutations respectfully, not with the familiar nod you +would give to one of your own age. + +Never remain seated, whilst a person older than yourself is standing +before you, talking to you. + +Never lounge on a sofa, while there are those in the room, whose years +give them a better claim to this sort of indulgence. + +Never tease a person to do what she has once declined. + +Never refuse a request or invitation in order to be urged, and accept +afterwards. Comply at once. If the request is sincere, you will thus +afford gratification; if not, the individual making it deserves to be +punished for insincerity, by being taken at her word. + +It is not polite when asked what part of a dish you will have, to say, +"Any part--it is quite indifferent to me;" it is hard enough to carve +for one's friends, without choosing for them. + +It is not polite to entertain a visitor with your own family history, or +the events of your own household. + +It is not polite for married ladies to talk, in the presence of +gentlemen, of the difficulty they have in procuring domestics, and how +good-for-nothing they are when procured. + +It is not polite to put food upon the plate of a guest without asking +leave, or to press her to eat more than she wants. + +It is not polite to stare under ladies' bonnets, as if you suspected +they had stolen the linings from you, or wore something that was not +their own. + +Never affect a foolish reserve in a mixed company, keeping aloof from +others as if in a state of mental abstraction. If your brain is so full +and so busy that you cannot attend to the little civilities, cheerful +chit-chat, and light amusements of society, keep out of it. + +Never read in company. You may open a book to look over the engravings, +if you will, but do not attend to the letter-press until you are alone. + +Never jest upon serious subjects. Avoid scandal. If another person +attempts to open a conversation upon scandalous matters, check her. Say +gravely that it is painful for you to hear of the faults or misfortunes +of others, where your counsel and assistance can be of no service. + +Many persons, whose tongues never utter a scandalous word, will, by a +significant glance, a shrug of the shoulders, a sneer, or curl of the +lip, really make more mischief, and suggest harder thoughts than if they +used the severest language. This is utterly detestable. If you have your +tongue under perfect control, you can also control your looks, and you +are cowardly, contemptible, and wicked, when you encourage and +countenance slander by a look or gesture. + +Never speak of gentlemen by their first name unless you are related to +them. It is very unlady-like to use the surname, without the prefix, Mr. +To hear a lady speak of Smith, Brown, Anderson, instead of Mr. Anderson +or Mr. Smith sounds extremely vulgar, and is a mark of low breeding. + +Avoid eccentricity either in dress, conversation, or manner. It is a +form of vanity, as it will attract attention, and is therefore in bad +taste. + +Never act as if in a hurry. Ease of action need not imply laziness, but +simply polite self-possession. + +Never laugh at your own wit. That is the part of those who hear you, and +if you take their duty from them, they may omit to join you in your +laugh. + +Do not indulge in ridicule. It is coarse and unlady-like as well as +unfeeling. Like every other personality, it should be carefully avoided. + +Never handle any ornament or article of furniture in the room in which +you are a visitor. + +Do not lean your head against the wall. You leave an indelible mark upon +the paper, or, if the wall is whitewashed, you give your hair a dingy, +dusty look, by bringing it into contact with the lime. + +Never lean forward upon a table. Let neither hands nor arms rest there +heavily. + +To bestow flattery upon a person to his face, betrays a want of +delicacy; yet, not less so, rudely to rebuke his errors or mention his +faults, and not have a tender regard for his feelings. It is not +improper, and may sometimes be very kind to mention to an individual +what yourself and others think of his conduct or performances, when it +is for his interest or usefulness to know it. To express to a friend +deserved approbation is generally proper. + +Nothing but a quick perception of the feelings of others, and a ready +sympathy with them, can regulate the thousand little proprieties that +belong to visits of condolence and congratulation. There is one hint, +however, as regards the former, which may perhaps be useful, and that +is, not to touch upon the cause of affliction, unless the mourner leads +the way to it; and if a painful effort is made to appear cheerful, and +to keep aloof from the subject, do not make the slightest allusion that +could increase this feeling. + +When at table to _press_ your guests to take more than they have +inclination for, is antiquated and rude. This does not, however, +prevent your recommending particular dishes to their attention. +Everything like compulsion is quite exploded. + +It is a great mistake to suppose that the best music is the most +difficult of execution. The very reverse, generally speaking, is the +case. Music of a high order certainly demands high gifts and attainments +on the part of the performer. But the gifts of nature may be possessed +by the amateur as well as by the professor; and the attainments of art +may be the result of moderate study and application. A young lady +possessed of a sweet and tunable voice, a good ear, intelligence, and +feeling, may cultivate music in its grandest and most beautiful forms, +and may render its practice a source of the purest enjoyment, not only +to herself but to her domestic and social circle. + +The various ceremonies observed in refined society are very useful in +settling little points, on which there might otherwise be much doubt and +perplexity; but they should never be so strenuously insisted upon as to +make an accidental omission of them a ground of resentment, and an +apology should always be accepted in their place. + +Your enjoyment of a party depends far less on what you find there, than +on what you carry with you. The vain, the ambitious, the designing, will +be full of anxiety when they go, and of disappointment when they return. +A short triumph will be followed by a deep mortification, and the +selfishness of their aims defeats itself. If you go to see, and to hear, +and to make the best of whatever occurs, with a disposition to admire +all that is beautiful, and to sympathize in the pleasures of others, you +can hardly fail to spend the time pleasantly. The less you think of +yourself and your claims to attention, the better. If you are much +attended to, receive it modestly, and consider it as a happy accident; +if you are little noticed, use your leisure in observing others. + +It were unjust and ungrateful to conceive that the amusements of life +are altogether forbidden by its beneficent Author. They serve, on the +contrary, important purposes in the economy of human life, and are +destined to produce important effects both upon our happiness and +character. They are, in the first place, in the language of the +Psalmist, "the wells of the desert;" the kind resting-places in which +toil may relax, in which the weary spirit may recover its tone, and +where the desponding mind may resume its strength and its hopes. It is +not, therefore, the use of the innocent amusements of life which is +dangerous, but the abuse of them; it is not when they are occasionally, +but when they are constantly pursued; and when, from being an occasional +indulgence, it becomes an habitual desire. + +Women in the middle rank are brought up with the idea that if they +engage in some occupations, they shall lose "their position in society." +Suppose it to be so; surely it is wiser to quit a position we cannot +honestly maintain, than to live dependent upon the bounty and caprice of +others; better to labor with our hands, than eat the bread of idleness; +or submit to feel that we must not give utterance to our real opinions, +or express our honest indignation at being required to act a base or +unworthy part. And in all cases, however situated, every female ought to +learn how all household affairs are managed, were it only for the +purpose of being able to direct others. There cannot be any disgrace in +learning how to make the bread we eat, to cook our dinners, to mend our +clothes, or even to clean the house. Better to be found busily engaged +in removing the dust from the furniture, than to let it accumulate there +until a visitor leaves palpable traces where his hat or his arm have +been laid upon a table. + +Never put temptation in a servant's way; never be severe for trifling +offences, such as accidentally breaking anything, but reserve your +severity for those offences which are moral evils, such as a want of +truth, general laxity of principle, &c. The orders given to servants +should be clear and definite; and they should be trained as much as +possible to perform their duties regularly, so that every morning they +may know pretty nearly what will be expected of them during the day. It +is a great point to live, when you are alone, as if you expected +company; that is to say, to have everything so neat and orderly that you +need not be ashamed of any one seeing your table. It is very little more +trouble, and certainly no more expense; and the advantages in point of +comfort are unspeakable. + +If a foolish girl, by dint of squeezing and bracing with busk and bones, +secures the conventional beauty of a wasp waist, she is tolerably +certain to gain an addition she by no means bargained for, a _red nose_, +which, in numberless instances, is produced by no other cause than the +unnatural girth, obstructing circulation, and causing stagnation of the +blood, in that prominent and important feature. Often, in assemblages of +the fair, we have seen noses faultless in form, but tinged with the +abhorred hue, to which washes and cosmetics have been applied in wild +despair; but in vain! If the lovely owners had known the cause, how +speedily the effect would have vanished! for surely the most perverse +admirer of a distorted spine and compressed lungs, would deem the +acquisition of a dram-drinker's nose, too heavy a condition to be +complied with. + +A well-bred woman will not demand as a right what she may have a claim +to expect from the politeness of the other sex, nor show dissatisfaction +and resentment if she fancies herself neglected. For want of good +breeding some females are exorbitant in their expectations, and appear +unthankful even when everything is done which true politeness demands. +Young women should guard against this unamiable defect. + +A well-bred person will take care not to use slang words and +expressions. There never has been a time, at least in late years, when +there have not been some two or three cant vulgarisms in vogue among all +the blackguards of the country. Sometimes these phrases have been caught +up from some popular song or farce; sometimes, we believe, they have had +their origin "where assembles the collective wisdom of the country." A +dozen of these terse but meaningless sayings now dance before our +recollection, for who has not heard them, even to loathing? But from +whatever source they may have been drawn, or whatever wit there might be +in their original position, the obtrusion of them into decent society is +an unwarrantable piece of impertinence. + +A habit of inserting into familiar conversation such phrases as "You +know," "You perceive," "You understand," "Says he," "Says she," is, so +far as those matters extend, a sign of a want of good breeding. + +With regard to any specific rules for dressing, we do not pretend to +arbitrate in such matters. Let a true sense of propriety, of the fitness +of things, regulate all your habits of living and dressing, and it will +produce such a beautiful harmony and consistency of character as will +throw a charm around you that all will feel, though few may comprehend. +Always consider well whether the articles of dress, which you wish to +purchase, are suited to your age, your condition, your means; to the +climate, to the particular use to which you mean to put them; and let +the principles of good taste keep you from the extremes of the fashion, +and regulate the form, so as to combine utility and beauty, whilst the +known rules of harmony in colors save you from shocking the eye of the +artist by incongruous mixtures. + +"Manners," says the eloquent Edmund Burke, "are of more importance than +laws. Upon them, in a great measure, the laws depend. The law can touch +us here and there, now and then. Manners are what vex or sooth, corrupt +or purify, exalt or debase, barbarise or refine, by a constant, steady, +uniform, insensible operation, like that of the air we breathe in. They +give their whole form and colors to our lives. According to their +quality they aid morals, they supply them, or they totally destroy +them." + + +FOUR IMPORTANT RULES. + +"Order is heaven's first law." + +1. A suitable place for everything, and everything in its place. + +2. A proper time for everything, and everything done in its time. + +3. A distinct name for everything, and everything called by its name. + +4. A certain use for everything, and everything put to its use. + +Much time would be saved; many disputes avoided; numerous articles kept +from being lost or injured, and constant confusion and disorder +prevented, by the strict observance of these four important rules. + +Dispense with ornaments altogether rather than wear mock jewelry. + +Depend upon it, silvery hair is better adapted to the faded cheeks of +middle age, than are tresses of nut-brown or coal-black, or any of the +mysterious shades produced by a dirty decoction called Hair-dye. + +The habitual use of very thin shoes invariably makes the feet tender, +and a host of other inconveniences arise therefrom. If you are tempted +to purchase tight shoes, don't, for several reasons; but one may +suffice--you will not wear them more than twice. + +If you are not quite certain of the line between neatness and the +reverse, be over-scrupulous about your under garments. The edge of a +soiled petticoat, or the glimpse of a rent stocking is singularly +disenchanting. + +Men of sense--I speak not of boys of eighteen to five and twenty, +during their age of detestability--men who are worth the trouble of +falling in love with, and the fuss and inconvenience, of being married +to, and to whom one might, after some inward conflicts, and a course +perhaps of fasting and self-humiliation, submit to fulfil those +ill-contrived vows of obedience which are exacted at the altar, such men +want, for their wives, companions, not dolls; and women who would suit +such men are just as capable of loving fervently, deeply, as the +Ringlettina, full of song and sentiment, who cannot walk, cannot rise in +the morning, cannot tie her bonnet-strings, faints if she has to lace +her boots, never in her life brushed out her beautiful hair, would not +for the world prick her delicate finger with plain sewing; but who can +work harder than a factory girl upon a lamb's-wool shepherdess, dance +like a dervise at balls, ride like a fox-hunter, and, whilst every +breath of air gives her cold in her father's house, and she cannot think +how people can endure this climate, she can go out to parties in +February and March, with an inch of sleeve and half-a-quarter of +boddice. + +All circumstances well examined, there can be no doubt Providence has +willed that man should be the head of the human race, even as woman is +its heart; that he should be its strength, as she is its solace; that he +should be its wisdom, as she is its grace; that he should be its mind, +its impetus, and its courage, as she is its sentiment, its charm, and +its consolation. Too great an amelioration could not be effected, in our +opinion, in the system generally adopted, which, far from correcting or +even compensating the presumed intellectual inequality of the two +sexes, generally serves only to increase it. By placing, for example, +dancing and needle-work at the extreme poles of female study, the one +for its attraction and the other for its utility, and by not filling the +immense interval with anything more valuable than mere monotonous, +imperfect, superficial, and totally unphilosophical notions, this system +has made of the greater number of female seminaries, establishments +which may be compared alike to nursery-grounds for coquettes and +sempstresses. It is never remembered that in domestic life conversation +is of more importance than the needle or choregraphy; that a husband is +neither a pacha nor a lazzarone, who must be perpetually intoxicated or +unceasingly patched; that there are upon the conjugal dial many long +hours of calm intimacy, of cool contemplation, of cold tenderness; and +that the husband makes another home elsewhere if his own hearth offers +him only silence; or what is a hundred times worse, merely frivolous and +monotonous discourse. Let the woman play the gossip at a given moment, +that is all very well; let her superintend the laundry or the kitchen at +another, that is also very well; but these duties only comprise +two-thirds of her mission. Ought care not to be taken that during the +rest of her time she could also be capable of becoming to her husband a +rational friend, a cheerful partner, an interesting companion, or, at +least, an efficient listener, whose natural intelligence, even if +originally inferior to his own, shall, by the help of education, have +been raised to the same level! + +Pascal says: "Kind words do not cost much. They never blister the tongue +or lips. And we have never heard of any mental trouble arising from +this quarter. Though they do not cost much. 1. They help one's own good +nature. Soft words soften our own soul. Angry words are fuel to the +flame of wrath, and make it blaze more fiercely. 2. Kind words make +other people good natured. Cold words freeze people, and hot words +scorch them, and bitter words make them bitter, and wrathful words make +them wrathful. There is such a rush of all other kinds of words in our +days, that it seems desirable to give kind words a change among them. +There are vain words, and idle words, and hasty words, and spiteful +words, and silly words, and empty words, and profane words, and +boisterous words, and warlike words. Kind words also produce their own +image on men's souls. And a beautiful image it is. They smooth, and +quiet, and comfort the hearer. They shame him out of his sour, morose, +unkind feelings. We have not yet begun to use kind words in such +abundance as they ought to be used." + +A writer in the New York Observer, speaking of the necessity of guarding +the tongue, says:-- + +"It is always well to avoid saying everything that is improper; but it +is especially so before children. And here parents, as well as others, +are often in fault. Children have as many ears as grown persons, and +they are generally more attentive to what is said before them. What they +hear, they are very apt to repeat; and, as they have no discretion, and +not sufficient knowledge of the world to disguise anything, it is +generally found that 'children and fools speak the truth.' See that +boy's eyes glisten while you are speaking of a neighbor in a language +you would not wish to have repeated. He does not fully understand what +you mean, but he will remember every word; and it will be strange if he +does not cause you to blush by the repetition. + +"A gentleman was in the habit of calling at a neighbor's house, and the +lady had always expressed to him great pleasure from his calls. One day, +just after she had remarked to him, as usual, her happiness from his +visit, her little boy entered the room. The gentleman took him on his +knee, and asked, 'Are you not glad to see me, George?' 'No, sir,' +replied the boy. 'Why not, my little man?' he continued. 'Because mother +don't want you to come,' said George. 'Indeed! how do you know that, +George?' Here the mother became crimson, and looked daggers at her +little son. But he saw nothing, and therefore replied, 'Because, she +said yesterday, she wished that old bore would not call here again.' +That was enough. The gentleman's hat was soon in requisition, and he +left with the impression that 'great is the truth, and it will prevail.' + +"Another little child looked sharply in the face of a visitor, and being +asked what she meant by it, replied, 'I wanted to see if you had a drop +in your eye; I heard mother say you had frequently.' + +"A boy once asked one of his father's guests who it was that lived next +door to him, and when he heard his name, inquired if he was not a fool. +'No, my little friend,' replied the guest, 'he is not a fool, but a very +sensible man. But why did you ask that question?' 'Because,' replied the +boy, 'mother said the other day, that you were next door to a fool; and +I wanted to know who lived next door to you.'" + +The best way to overcome the selfishness and rudeness you sometimes meet +with on public occasions, is, by great politeness and disinterestedness +on your part; overcome evil with good, and you will satisfy your own +conscience, and, perhaps, touch theirs. Contending for your rights stirs +up the selfish feelings in others; but a readiness to yield them awakens +generous sentiments, and leads to mutual accommodation. The more refined +you are, and the greater have been your advantages, the more polite and +considerate you should be toward others, the more ready to give place to +some poor, uneducated girl, who knows no better than to push herself +directly in your way. + +Politeness is as necessary to a happy intercourse with the inhabitants +of the kitchen, as with those of the parlor; it lessens the pains of +service, promotes kind feelings on both sides, and checks unbecoming +familiarity; always thank them for what they do for you, and always ask +rather than command their services. + +Of late years, the wearing of jewelry, in season and out of season, both +by matrons and unmarried females, has increased vastly. It is an +indication that the growing wealth of the people is not accompanied by a +corresponding refinement; but that the love of vulgar show, the low +pride of ostentation, takes the place of a pure and elevated taste. The +emulation with fashionable dames, now-a-days, so far from being, as with +the Spartan women, to excel each other in household virtues, is to wear +the largest diamonds. And, in this ambition, they forget fitness, +beauty, taste, everything but the mere vulgar desire to shine. To be +gracefully and elegantly attired, in short, is secondary to the desire +to be a sort of jeweler's walking show-card. We do not oppose the use of +diamonds and pearls altogether, as some persons might imagine from these +remarks. A few diamonds, judiciously worn, look well, on proper +occasions, on married women. But young girls rarely, or never, improve +their appearance by the use of these dazzling jewels; and, as a general +rule, the simpler the costume of a woman in her teens, the better. Women +are usually pretty, up to the age of twenty, at least. Consequently, at +this period of life, there are few whom an elaborate attire does not +injure; a simple dress, or a rose-bud in the hair, is frequently all +that is required; and more only spoils that combination of youthfulness, +grace, and modesty, which it should be the highest ambition of the girl +to attain; because, if she did but know it, it is her highest charm. +Instead of this, however, we see gay females, scarcely freed from the +nursery, wearing enormous jeweled ear-drops, or sporting on the finger, +a diamond ring as large as a sixpence. Sometimes, too, ladies pretending +to be well-bred, descend to receive a morning visitor of their own sex, +glittering like a jeweler's case, with costly gems. In all this, we +repeat, there is neither refinement nor elegance, but simply vulgar +ostentation. Female dress has ceased to be a means of beautifying the +person or displaying the wearer's taste, and has become instead, a mere +brag of the husband's or father's wealth. + +A knowledge of domestic duties is beyond all price to a woman. Every +one of the sex ought to know how to sew, and knit, and mend, and cook, +and superintend a household. In every situation of life, high or low, +this sort of knowledge is of great advantage. There is no necessity that +the gaining of such information should interfere with intellectual +acquirement or even elegant accomplishment. A well-regulated mind can +find time to attend to all. When a girl is nine or ten years old, she +should be accustomed to take some regular share in household duties, and +to feel responsible for the manner in which her part is performed--such +as her own mending, washing the cups and putting them in place, cleaning +silver, or dusting and arranging the parlor. This should not be done +occasionally, and neglected whenever she finds it convenient--she should +consider it her department. When older than twelve, girls should begin +to take turns in superintending the household--making puddings, pies, +cakes, &c. To learn effectually, they should actually do these +themselves, and not stand by and see others do them. Many a husband has +been ruined for want of these domestic qualities in a wife--and many a +husband has been saved from ruin by his wife being able to manage well +the household concerns. + +It is a mark, not only of ill-breeding, but of positive want of feeling +and judgment, to speak disparagingly of a physician to one of his +patients. Many persons, visiting an invalid friend, will exclaim loudly +against the treatment pursued, recommend a different doctor, and add to +the sufferings of the patient by their injudicious remarks upon the +medicines or practice used. + +It is too much the fashion, in conversation, to use exaggerated +expressions which are opposed to _truth_, without the person employing +them being aware of it, from the mere force of habit. Why need we say +splendid for pretty, magnificent for handsome, horrid for unpleasant, +immense for large, thousands, or myriads, for any number more than two? +This practice is pernicious, for the effect is to deprive the person who +is guilty of it, from being believed, when she is in earnest. No one can +trust the testimony of an individual who, in common conversation, is +indifferent to the import, and regardless of the value of words. + +Politeness is very essential to the right transaction of that great +business of woman's life, _shopping_. The variety afforded by the shops +of a city renders people difficult to please; and the latitude they take +in examining and asking the price of goods, which they have no thought +of buying, is so trying to the patience of those who attend upon them, +that nothing but the most perfect courtesy of demeanor can reconcile +them to it. Some persons behave, in shopping, as if no one had any +rights, or any feelings, but the purchasers; as if the sellers of goods +were mere automatons, put behind the counter to do their bidding; they +keep them waiting, whilst they talk of other things, with a friend; they +call for various goods, ask the price, and try to cheapen them, without +any real intention of buying. A lady who wants decision of character, +after hesitating and debating, till the poor trader's patience is almost +exhausted, will beg him to send the article to her house, for her to +examine it there; and, after giving him all this trouble, she will +refuse to purchase it, without any scruple or apology. Some think they +have a right to exchange articles at the place where they were bought; +whereas that privilege should be asked as a favor, only by a good +customer,--and then but rarely. + + + + +RECEIPTS. + + +FOR THE COMPLEXION. + +COLD CREAM, 1.--Take 2-1/2 ounces of sweet oil of almonds, 3 drachms of +white wax, and the same of spermaceti, 2-1/2 ounces of rose-water, 1 +drachm of oil of bergamot, and 15 drops each of oil of lavender, and +otto of roses. Melt the wax and spermaceti in the oil of almonds, by +placing them together in a jar, which should be plunged into boiling +water. Heat a mortar (which should, if possible, be _marble_) by pouring +boiling water into it, and letting it remain there until the mortar is +uniformly heated; the water is to be poured away, and the mortar dried +well. Pour the melted wax and spermaceti into the warm mortar, and add +rose-water gradually, while the mixture is constantly stirred or whisked +with an egg-whisp, until the whole is cold, and, when nearly finished, +add the oils and otto of roses. + +In the absence of a mortar, a basin plunged into another containing +boiling water will answer the purpose. + +COLD CREAM, 2.--Take 10 drachms of spermaceti, 4 drachms of white wax, +half a pound of prepared lard, 15 grains of subcarbonate of potash, 4 +ounces of rose-water, 2 ounces of spirits of wine, and ten drops of otto +of roses. + +Proceed as above. Some persons prefer orange-flower-water instead of +rose-water, in which case use the same proportions. + +Cold cream is a useful local application to hard and dry parts of the +skin, to abrasions and cracks. When spread thickly upon rag, it is an +excellent application to blistered surfaces or burns, or may be used to +protect exposed parts from the influence of the sun. + +GRANULATED COLD CREAM.--Take white wax and spermaceti, of each one +ounce; almond oil 3 ounces, otto of rose, as much as you please. +Dissolve the wax and spermaceti in the almond oil, by means of heat, and +when a little cool, pour the mixture into a large wedgwood mortar +previously warmed, and containing about a pint of warm water. Stir +briskly until the cream is well divided, add the otto, and _suddenly_ +pour the whole into a clean vessel containing 8 or 12 pints of _cold +water_. Separate the cream by straining through muslin, and shake out as +much water as possible. + +WHITE CAMPHORATED OINTMENT, 1.--Take 3 ounces 2 drachms of powdered +carbonate of lead (cerussa), 45 grains of powdered camphor. Mix, and +then stir into 5 ounces of melted lard. + +This is applied to burns and contusions with very good effect, and is +much used in Austria. The surface must not be abraded when it is +applied. + +WHITE CAMPHORATED OINTMENT, 2.--Take 4 ounces of olive oil, 1 ounce of +white wax, 22 grains of camphor, and 6 drachms of spermaceti. Melt the +wax and spermaceti with the oil, and when they have cooled rub the +ointment with the camphor, dissolved in a little oil. Sometimes the +white wax is omitted, and lard substituted for it. + +It is useful in chaps, fissures, abrasions, and roughness of the skin. + +PITCH POMADE, 1.--Take 1 drachm of pitch, and 1 ounce of lard. Mix well, +and apply twice a day to the affected parts. + +This is used for ringworm, and scald head. + +TO SOFTEN THE SKIN, AND IMPROVE THE COMPLEXION.--If flowers of sulphur +be mixed in a little milk, and, after standing an hour or two, the milk +(without disturbing the sulphur) be rubbed into the skin, it will keep +it soft, and make the complexion clear. It is to be used before washing. + +TO REMOVE BLACK STAINS FROM THE SKIN.--Ladies that wear mourning in warm +weather are much incommoded by the blackness it leaves on the arms and +neck, and which cannot easily be removed, even by soap and warm water. +To have a remedy always at hand, keep, in the drawer of your wash-stand, +a box, containing a mixture in equal portions of cream of tartar, and +oxalic acid (POISON). Get, at a druggist's, half an ounce of each of +these articles, and have them mixed and pounded together in a mortar. +Put some of this mixture into a cup that has a cover, and if, +afterwards, it becomes hard, you may keep it slightly moistened with +water. See that it is always closely covered. To use it, wet the black +stains on your skin with the corner of a towel, dipped in water (warm +water is best, but is not always at hand). Then, with your finger, rub +on a little of the mixture. Then _immediately_ wash it off with water, +and afterwards with soap and water, and the black stains will be visible +no longer. This mixture will also remove ink, and all other stains from +the fingers, and from _white_ clothes. It is more speedy in its effects +if applied with warm water. No family should be without it, but care +must be taken to keep it out of the way of young children, as, if +swallowed, it is poisonous. + + +PASTES. + +ALMOND.--Take 1 ounce of bitter almonds, blanch and pound them to a fine +powder, then add 1 ounce of barley flour, and make it into a smooth +paste by the addition of a little honey. When this paste is laid over +the skin, particularly where there are freckles, it makes it smooth and +soft. + +PALATINE.--Take 8 ounces of soft-soap, of olive oil, and spirits of +wine, each 4 ounces, 1-1/2 ounce of lemon-juice, sufficient silver-sand +to form into a thick paste, and any perfume that is grateful to the +person. Boil the oil and soap together in a pipkin, and then gradually +stir in the sand and lemon-juice. When nearly cool add the spirit of +wine, and lastly the perfume. Make into a paste with the hands, and +place in jars or pots for use. + +This paste is used instead of soap, and is a valuable addition to the +toilette, as it preserves the skin from chapping, and renders it smooth +and soft. + +AMERICAN COSMETIC POWDER.--Calcined magnesia applied the same as +ordinary toilette powders, by means of a swan's-down ball, usually +called a "puff." + +MALOINE.--Take 4 ounces of powdered marsh-mallow roots, 2 ounces of +powdered white starch, 3 drachms of powdered orris-root, and 20 drops of +essence of jasmine. Mix well, and sift through fine muslin. + +This is one of the most agreeable and elegant cosmetics yet known for +softening and whitening the skin, preserving it from chapping, and being +so simple that it may be applied to the most delicate or irritable skin. + +This receipt has never before been published, and we know that only six +bottles of it have been made. + +OXIDE OF ZINC is sprinkled into chaps and fissures to promote their +cure. + +YAOULTA.--Take 1 ounce of white starch, powdered and sifted, 1/2 a +drachm of rose pink, 10 drops of essence of jasmine, and 2 drops of otto +of roses. Mix and keep in a fine muslin bag. + +This exquisite powder is to be dusted over the face, and, being +perfectly harmless, may be used as often as necessity requires. It also +imparts a delicate rosy tinge to the skin preferable to rouge. + +CREME DE L'ENCLOS.--Take 4 ounces of milk, 1 ounce of lemon-juice, and 2 +drachms of spirit of wine. Simmer over a slow fire, and then bring it to +the boil, skim off the scum, and when cold apply it to the skin. + +It is much used by some persons to remove freckles and sun-burnings. + + +WASHES AND LOTIONS. + +MILK OF ROSES, 1.--Take 2 ounces of blanched almonds; 12 ounces of +rose-water; white soft-soap, or Windsor soap; white wax; and oil of +almonds, of each 2 drachms; rectified spirit, 3 ounces; oil of bergamot, +1 drachm; oil of lavender, 15 drops; otto of roses, 8 drops. Beat the +almonds well, and then add the rose-water gradually so as to form an +emulsion, mix the soap, white wax, and oil together, by placing them in +a covered jar upon the edge of the fire-place, then rub this mixture in +a mortar with the emulsion. Strain the whole through very fine muslin, +and add the essential oils, previously mixed with the spirit. + +This is an excellent wash for "sunburns," freckles, or for cooling the +face and neck, or any part of the skin to which it is applied. + +MILK OF ROSES, 2.--This is not quite so expensive a receipt as the last; +and, at the same time is not so good. + +Take 1 ounce of Jordan almonds; 5 ounces of distilled rose-water; 1 +ounce of spirit of wine; 1/2 a drachm of Venetian soap, and 2 drops of +otto of roses. Beat the almonds (previously blanched and well dried with +a cloth) in a mortar, until they become a complete paste, then beat the +soap and mix with the almonds, and afterwards add the rose-water and +spirit. Strain through a very fine muslin or linen, and add the otto of +roses. + +The common milk of roses sold in the shops, frequently contains salt of +tartar, or pearlash, combined with olive oil and rose-water, and +therefore it is better to make it yourself to ensure it being good. + +FRENCH MILK OF ROSES.--Mix 2-1/2 pints of rose-water with 1/2 a pint of +rosemary-water, then add tincture of storax and tincture of benzoin, of +each 2 ounces; and _esprit de rose_, 1/2 an ounce. This is a useful wash +for freckles. + +GERMAN MILK OF ROSES.--Take of rose-water and milk of almonds, each 3 +ounces; water 8 ounces; rosemary-water 2 ounces; and spirit of lavender +1/2 an ounce. Mix well, and then add 1/2 an ounce of sugar of lead. + +This is a dangerous form to leave about where there are children, and +should never be applied when there are any abrasions, or chaps on the +surface. + +MILK OF ALMONDS.--Blanch 4 ounces of Jordan almonds, dry them with a +towel, and then pound them in a mortar; add 2 drachms of white or curd +soap, and rub it up with the almonds for about ten minutes or rather +more, gradually adding one quart of rose-water, until the whole is well +mixed, then strain through a fine piece of muslin, and bottle for use. + +This is an excellent remedy for freckles and sunburns, and may be used +as a general cosmetic, being applied to the skin after washing by means +of the corner of a soft towel. + +ANTI-FRECKLE LOTION, 1.--Take tincture of benzoin, 2 ounces; tincture of +tolu, 1 ounce; oil of rosemary, 1/2 a drachm. Mix well and bottle. When +required to be used, add a teaspoonful of the mixture to about a +wine-glassful of water, and apply the lotion to the face or hands, &c., +night and morning, carefully rubbing it in with a soft towel. + +ANTI-FRECKLE LOTION, 2.--Take 1 ounce of rectified spirit of wine; 1 +drachm of hydrochloric acid (spirit of salt); and 7 ounces of water. Mix +the acid gradually with the water, and then add the spirit of wine; +apply by means of a camel's-hair brush, or a piece of flannel. + +GOWLAND'S LOTION.--Take 1-1/2 grains of bichloride of mercury, and 1 +ounce of emulsion of bitter almonds; mix well. Be careful of the +bichloride of mercury, because it is a poison. + +This is one of the best cosmetics for imparting a delicate appearance +and softness to the skin, and is a useful lotion in acne, ringworm, hard +and dry skin, and sun-blisterings. + +COLD CREAM.--Sweet almond oil, 7 lbs. by weight, white wax, 3/4 lb., +spermaceti, 3/4 lb., clarified mutton suet, 1 lb., rose-water, 7 pints, +spirits of wine, 1 pint. Directions to mix the above:--Place the oil, +wax, spermaceti, and suet in a large jar; cover it over tightly, then +place it in a saucepan of boiling water, (having previously placed two +or more pieces of fire-wood at the bottom of the saucepan, to allow the +water to get underneath the jar, and to prevent its breaking) keep the +water boiling round the jar till all the ingredients are dissolved; take +it out of the water, and pour it into a large pan previously warmed and +capable of holding 21 pints; then, with a wooden spatula, stir in the +rose-water, cold, as quickly as possible, (dividing it into three or +four parts, at most,) the stirring in of which should not occupy above +five minutes, as after a certain heat the water will not mix. When all +the water is in, stir unremittingly for thirty minutes longer, to +prevent its separating, then add the spirits of wine, and the scent, and +it is finished. Keep it in a cold place, in a white glazed jar, and do +not cut it with a _steel_ knife, as it causes blackness at the parts of +contact. Scent with otto of roses and essential oil of bergamot to +fancy. For smaller quantities, make ounces instead of pounds. + +PALM SOAP.--I make it in the following manner:--Cut thin two pounds of +yellow soap into a double saucepan, occasionally stirring it till it is +melted, which will be in a few minutes if the water is kept boiling +around it; then add quarter of a pound of palm oil, quarter of a pound +of honey, three pennyworth of true oil of cinnamon; let all boil +together another six or eight minutes; pour out and stand it by till +next day; it is then fit for immediate use. If made as these directions +it will be found to be a very superior soap. + +CURE FOR CHAPPED HANDS.--Take 3 drachms of gum camphor, 3 drachms of +white beeswax, 3 drachms of spermaceti, 2 ounces of olive oil,--put them +together in a cup upon the stove, where they will melt slowly and form a +white ointment in a few minutes. If the hands be affected, anoint them +on going to bed, and put on a pair of gloves. A day or two will suffice +to heal them. + +TO WHITEN THE NAILS.--Diluted sulphuric acid, 2 drachms; tincture of +myrrh, 1 drachm; spring water, 4 ounces. Mix. First cleanse with white +soap, and then dip the fingers into the mixture. + +TO WHITEN THE HANDS.--Take a wine-glassful of eau de Cologne, and +another of lemon-juice; then scrape two cakes of brown Windsor soap to a +powder, and mix well in a mould. When hard, it will be an excellent soap +for whitening the hands. + + +FOR THE TEETH. + +TO REMOVE TARTAR FROM THE TEETH.--1st. The use of the tooth-brush night +and morning, and, at least, rinsing the mouth after every meal at which +animal food is taken. 2nd. Once daily run the brush lightly two or three +times over soap, then dip it in salt, and with it clean the teeth, +working the brush up and down rather than--or as well as--backwards and +forwards. This is a cheap, safe, and effectual dentrifice. 3rd. Eat +freely of common cress, the sort used with mustard, under the name of +small salad; it must be eaten with salt only. If thus used two or three +days in succession it will effectually loosen tartar, even of long +standing. The same effect is produced, though perhaps not in an equal +degree, by eating strawberries and raspberries, especially the former. A +leaf of common green sage rubbed on the teeth is useful both in +cleansing and polishing, and probably many other common vegetable +productions also. + +CARE OF THE TEETH.--The water with which the teeth are cleansed should +be what is called lukewarm. They should be well but gently brushed both +night and morning; the brush should be neither too hard nor too soft. +The best tooth-powders are made from cuttle-fish, prepared chalk, and +orris-root commingled together in equal quantities. + +SIMPLE MEANS OF REMOVING TARTAR FROM THE TEETH.--In these summer months, +tartar may be effectually removed from the teeth, by partaking daily of +strawberries. + +TOOTH POWDER.--Powdered orris-root, 1/2 an ounce; powdered charcoal, 2 +ounces, powdered Peruvian bark, 1 ounce; prepared chalk, 1/2 an ounce; +oil of bergamot, or lavender, 20 drops. These ingredients must be well +worked up in a mortar, until thoroughly incorporated. This celebrated +tooth-powder possesses three essential virtues, giving an odorous +breath, cleansing and purifying the gums, and preserving the enamel; the +last rarely found in popular tooth-powders. + +TOOTH-POWDER.--One of the best tooth-powders that can be used may be +made by mixing together 1-1/2 ounces prepared chalk, 1/2 ounce powder of +bark, and 1/4 ounce of camphor. + +A CHEAP BUT GOOD TOOTH-POWDER.--Cut a slice of bread as thick as may be, +into squares, and burn in the fire until it becomes charcoal, after +which pound in a mortar, and sift through a fine muslin; it is then +ready for use. + +CHEAP AND INVALUABLE DENTIFRICE.--Dissolve 2 ounces of borax in three +pints of water; before quite cold, add thereto one tea-spoonful of +tincture of myrh, and one table-spoonful of spirits of camphor; bottle +the mixture for use. One wine-glass of the solution, added to half a +pint of tepid water, is sufficient for each application. This solution, +applied daily, preserves and beautifies the teeth, extirpates all +tartarous adhesion, produces a pearl-like whiteness, arrests decay, and +induces a healthy action in the gums. + +INVALUABLE DENTIFRICE.--Dissolve two ounces of borax in three pints of +boiling water; before quite cold, add one tea-spoonful of tincture of +myrrh, and one table-spoonful of spirits of camphor; bottle the mixture +for use. One wine-glassful of this solution, added to half a pint of +tepid water, is sufficient for each application. + + +FOR THE HAIR. + +LOSS OF HAIR.--The most simple remedy for loss of hair, is friction to +the scalp of the head, using for the purpose an old tooth-brush, or one +of which the bristles have been softened by soaking in boiling water. +The shape of the instrument adapts it to be inserted readily and +effectually between the hair, where it should be rubbed backwards and +forwards over the space of an inch or so at a time. In addition to the +friction, which should be used once or twice a day, the head may be +showered once a day with cold water, carefully drying it with soft, +spongy towels. + +POMATUM.--Take of white mutton suet 4 pounds, well boiled in hot water, +(3 quarts,) and washed to free it from salt. Melt the suet, when dried, +with 1-1/2 pounds of fresh lard, and 2 pounds of yellow wax. Pour into +an earthen vessel, and stir till it is cold; then beat into it 30 drops +of oil of cloves, or any other essential oil whose scent you prefer. If +this kind of pomatum is too hard, use less wax. + +At times numbers of loose hairs come away in the brushing or combing. +Such cases as these will generally be found remedial. Wilson recommends +women with short hair to dip their heads into cold water every morning, +and afterwards apply the brush until a glow of warmth is felt all over +the scalp. Those who have long hair are to brush it till the skin +beneath becomes red, when a lotion is to be applied, as here specified. + + Eau de Cologne 2 oz. + Tincture of Cantharides 1/2 oz. + Oil of Nutmegs 1/2 drachm. + Oil of Lavender 10 drops. + +To be well mixed together. + +Another is composed of:-- + + Mezereon bark in small pieces 1 oz. + Horse-Radish root in small pieces 1 oz. + Boiling distilled Vinegar 1/2 pint. + +Let this infusion stand for a week, and then strain through muslin for +use. + +If irritating to the skin, these lotions can be made weaker, or less +frequently applied than might otherwise be necessary. Either of them, or +distilled vinegar alone, may be rubbed into a bald patch with a +tooth-brush. The same lotions may also be used if the hair is disposed +to become gray too early; as they invigorate the apparatus situated +beneath the skin, and enable it to take up coloring matter. Dyeing of +the hair is a practice which ought never to be resorted to. Those who +are unwilling or unable to discontinue the practice of applying some +kind of dressing to the hair, should, at least, content themselves with +a simple, yet good material. The best olive oil is most suitable for the +purpose, scented with otto of roses or bergamot; the latter, as many +persons know, is the essence of a species of mint. The same scents may +also be used for pomatum, which should be made of perfectly pure lard, +or marrow. + +HAIR OILS, &c.--When used moderately, oils, ointments, &c., tend to +strengthen the hair, especially when it is naturally dry. When used in +excess, however, they clog the pores, prevent the escape of the natural +secretions, and cause the hair to wither and fall off. The varieties of +"oils," "Greases," "ointments," rivaling each-other in their high +sounding pretensions, which are daily imposed upon public credulity, are +interminable. We add one or two of the most simple. + +FOR THICKENING THE HAIR.--To one ounce of Palma Christi oil, add a +sufficient quantity of bergamot or lavender to scent it. Apply it to the +parts where it is most needed, brushing it well into the hair. + +AN OINTMENT FOR THE HAIR.--Mix two ounces of bear's grease, half an +ounce of honey, one drachm of laudanum, three drachms of the powder of +southernwood, three drachms of the balsam of Peru, one and a half +drachms of the ashes of the roots of bulrushes, and a small quantity of +the oil of sweet almonds. + +MACASSAR OIL.--It is said to be compounded of the following +ingredients:--To three quarts of common oil, add half-a-pint of spirits +of wine, three ounces of cinnamon powder, and two ounces of bergamot; +heat the whole in a large pipkin. On removing from the fire, add three +or four small pieces of alkanet root, and keep the vessel closely +covered for several hours. When cool, it may be filtered through a +funnel lined with filtering paper. + +Whether oils are used or not, the hair ought night and morning to be +carefully and elaborately brushed. This is one of the best preservatives +of its beauty. + +The following is recommended as an excellent Hair Oil:--Boil together +half-a-pint of port wine, one pint and a-half of sweet oil, and +half-a-pound of green southernwood. Strain the mixture through a linen +rag several times; adding, at the last operation, two ounces of bear's +grease. If fresh southernwood is added each time it passes through the +linen, the composition will be improved. + +POMADE VICTORIA.--This highly-praised and excellent pomade is made in +the following way--and if so made, will be found to give a beautiful +gloss and softness to the hair:--Quarter of a-pound of honey and +half-an-ounce of bees' wax simmered together for a few minutes and then +strain. Add of oil of almonds, lavender, and thyme, half-a-drachm each. +Be sure to continue stirring till quite cold, or the honey and wax will +separate. + +LEMON POMATUM.--Best lard, two pounds; suet, half-a-pound; dissolve with +a gentle heat, and mix them well together. Then add four ounces of +orange-flower water, and four ounces of rose-water, and mix them well +together before adding, or they will separate. Having done this, add a +quarter of an ounce of essence of lemon; half-a-drachm of musk, and +half-a-drachm of oil of thyme. + +TO COLOR POMATUM.--Yellow, by palm oil or annatto; red, by alkanet root; +and green, by guaiacum, or the green leaves of parsley. + +BANDOLINE FOR THE HAIR, (A FRENCH RECEIPT).--To one quart of water put +1/2 ounce of quince pips, boil it nearly an hour, stirring it well, +strain it through a fine muslin, let it stand twenty-four hours, and +then add fourteen drops of the essential oil of almonds. A +dessert-spoonful of brandy may be added, if required to keep a long +time. + +BANDOLINE FOR THE HAIR.--Take of castor oil, two ounces; spermaceti, +one drachm; oil of bergamot, one drachm; mix with heat and strain; then +beat in six drops otto of roses. If wished colored, add half-a-drachm of +annatto. + +ANOTHER.--I furnish you with an excellent form of Bandoline, much more +quickly made than others. Have a small packet of powdered gum dragon by +you, and when you require any fresh bandoline, take a tea-spoonful of +the powder, and pour enough of boiling water on it to make a small +bottle full. Scent with otto of roses. + +CURLING FLUID.--Place two pounds of common soap, cut small, into three +pints of spirits of wine, with eight ounces of potash, and melt the +whole, stirring it with a clean piece of wood. Add, on cooling, essence +of amber, vanilla, and neroli, of each quarter of an ounce. The best +method of keeping _ringlets_ in curl, is the occasional application of +the yolk of an egg, and the hair, afterwards, well washed in lukewarm +water. Apply the egg with a tooth or hair-brush. + + +FOR THE LIPS. + +VERY EXCELLENT LIP-SALVE.--Take four ounces of butter, fresh from the +churn, cut it small, put it into a jar, cover it with good rose-water, +and let it remain for four or five days; then drain it well, and put it +into a small and very clean saucepan, with one ounce of spermaceti, and +one of yellow beeswax sliced thin, a quarter of an ounce of bruised +alkanet root, two drachms of gum benzoin, and one of storax, beaten to +powder, half an ounce of loaf sugar, and the strained juice of a +moderate sized lemon. Simmer these gently, keeping them stirred all the +time, until the mixture looks very clear, and sends forth a fine +aromatic odour; then strain it through a thin doubled muslin, and stir +to it from twelve to twenty drops of essential oil of roses, and pour it +into small gallipots, from which it can easily be turned out when cold, +and then be rubbed against the lips, which is the most pleasant way of +using it, as it is much firmer than common lip-salve, and will be found +more healing and infinitely more agreeable. When butter cannot be had +direct from the churn, any which is quite fresh may be substituted for +it, after the salt has been well washed and soaked out of it, by working +it with a strong spoon in cold water, in which it should remain for a +couple of days or more, the water being frequently changed during the +time. + +ROSE LIP-SALVE.--8 ounces sweet almond oil, 4 ounces prepared mutton +suet, 1-1/2 ounces white wax, 2 ounces spermaceti, 20 drops otto; steep +a small quantity of alkanet root in the oil, and strain before using. +Melt the suet, wax, and spermaceti together, then add the coloric oil +and otto. + +LIP-SALVES.--A good lip-salve may be made as follows:--Take an ounce of +the oil of sweet almonds, cold drawn; a drachm of fresh mutton suet; and +a little bruised alkanet root: and simmer the whole together in an +earthen pipkin. Instead of the oil of sweet almonds you may use oil of +Jasmin, or oil of any other flower, if you intend the lip-salve to have +a fragrant odour.--2. Take a pound of fresh butter; a quarter of a pound +of beeswax; four or five ounces of cleansed black grapes, and about an +ounce of bruised alkanet root. Simmer them together over a slow fire +till the wax is wholly dissolved, and the mixture becomes of a bright +red color; strain, and put it by for use. 3. Oil of almonds, spermaceti, +white wax, and white sugar-candy, equal parts, form a good white +lip-salve. + +SUPERIOR LIP-SALVE.--White wax, two and a half ounces; spermaceti, three +quarters of an ounce; oil of almonds, four ounces. Mix well together, +and apply a little to the lips at night. + +ANOTHER.--A desert spoonful of salad oil in a saucer, hold it over a +candle, and drop melted wax over it till the oil is thinly covered, when +they are incorporated, pour it into boxes.--(Wax taper will do.) + + +FOR CORNS. + +CURE FOR CORNS.--Place the feet for half an hour, two or three nights +successively, in a pretty strong solution of common soda. The alkali +dissolves the indurated cuticle, and the corn falls out spontaneously, +leaving a small excavation, which soon fills up. + +TO REMOVE CORNS.--Get four ounces of white diachylon plaster, four +ounces of shoemaker's wax, and sixty drops of muriatic acid or spirits +of salt. Boil them for a few minutes in an earthen pipkin, and when +cold, roll the mass between the hands and apply a little on a piece of +white leather. + +A CERTAIN CURE FOR SOFT CORNS.--Dip a piece of soft linen rag in +turpentine, and wrap it round the toe on which the soft corn is, night +and morning; in a few days the corn will disappear; but the relief is +instantaneous. + + +PERFUMES. + +TO MAKE EAU DE COLOGNE.--Rectified spirits of wine, four pints; oil of +bergamot, one ounce; oil of lemon, half an ounce; oil of rosemary, half +a drachm; oil of Neroli, three quarters of a drachm; oil of English +lavender, one drachm; oil of oranges, one drachm. Mix well and then +filter. If these proportions are too large, smaller ones may be used. + +EAU DE COLOGNE.--Oil of neroli, citron, bergamot, orange, and rosemary, +of each twelve drops; cardamom seeds, one drachm; spirits of wine, one +pint. Let it stand for a week. + +LAVENDER WATER.--Oil of lavender, 2 drachms; oil of bergamot, 1/2 +drachm; essence of musk, 1 drachm; spirits of wine, 13 ounces; water, 5 +ounces. Let it stand for a week. + + +FOR KEEPING THE WARDROBE IN ORDER. + +TO CLEAN KID GLOVES.--Make a strong lather with curd soap and warm +water, in which steep a small piece of new flannel. Place the glove on a +flat, clean, and unyielding surface--such as the bottom of a dish, and +having thoroughly soaped the flannel (when squeezed from the lather), +rub the kid till all dirt be removed, cleaning and resoaping the flannel +from time to time. Care must be taken to omit no part of the glove, by +turning the fingers, &c. The gloves must be dried in the sun, or before +a moderate fire, and will present the appearance of old parchment. When +quite dry, they must be gradually "pulled out," and will look new. + +ANOTHER.--First see that your hands are clean, then put on the gloves +and wash them, as though you were washing your hands, in a basin of +spirits of turpentine, until quite clean; then hang them up in a warm +place, or where there is a good current of air, which will carry off all +smell of the turpentine. This method was brought from Paris, and +thousands of dollars have been made by it. + +TO CLEAN COLORED KID GLOVES.--Have ready on a table a clean towel, +folded three or four times, a saucer of new milk, and another saucer +with a piece of brown soap. Take one glove at a time, and spread it +smoothly on the folded towel. Then dip in the milk a piece of clean +flannel, rub it on the soap till you get off a tolerable quantity, and +then, with the wet flannel, commence rubbing the glove. Begin at the +wrist, and rub lengthways towards the end of the fingers, holding the +glove firmly in your right-hand. Continue this process until the glove +is well cleaned all over with the milk and soap. When done, spread them +out, and pin them on a line to dry gradually. When nearly dry, pull them +out evenly, the crossway of the leather. When quite dry, stretch them on +your hands. White kid gloves may also be washed in this manner, provided +they have never been cleaned with India-rubber. + +TO CLEAN WHITE OR COLORED KID GLOVES.--Put the glove on your hand, then +take a small piece of flannel, dip it in camphene, and well, but gently, +rub it over the glove, _taking care not to make it too wet_, when the +dirt is removed, dip the flannel (or another piece if that is become too +dirty) into pipe-clay and rub it over the glove; take it off, and hang +it up in a room to dry, and in a day or two very little smell will +remain; and if done carefully they will be almost as good as new. In +colored ones, if yellow, use gamboge after the pipe-clay, and for other +colors match it in dry paint. + +TO CLEAN WHITE KID GLOVES.--Stretch the gloves on a clean board, and rub +all the soiled or grease-spots with cream of tartar or magnesia. Let +them rest an hour. Then have ready a mixture of alum and Fuller's earth +(both powdered), and rub it all over the gloves with a brush (a clean +tooth-brush or something similar), and let them rest for an hour or two. +Then sweep it all off, and go over them with a flannel dipped in a +mixture of bran and finely powdered whiting. Let them rest another hour; +then brush off the powder, and you will find them clean. + +TO CLEAN LIGHT KID GLOVES.--Put on one glove, and having made a strong +lather with common brown soap, apply it with a shaving brush, wiping it +off immediately with a clean towel, then blow into the glove, and leave +it to dry. + +AN EXCELLENT PASTE FOR GLOVES.--Liquor of ammonia half an ounce, +chloride of potash ten ounces, curd soap one pound, water half a pint; +dissolve the soap in the water, with a gentle heat, then as the mixture +cools, stir in the other ingredients. Use it, by rubbing it over the +gloves until the dirt is removed. + +TO WASH THREAD LACE.--Rip off the lace, carefully pick out the loose +bits of thread, and roll the lace very smoothly and securely round a +clean black bottle, previously covered with old white linen, sewed +tightly on. Tack each end of the lace with a needle and thread, to keep +it smooth; and be careful in wrapping not to crumple or fold in any of +the scallops or pearlings. After it is on the bottle, take some of the +_best_ sweet oil and with a clean sponge wet the lace thoroughly to the +inmost folds. Have ready in a wash-kettle, a strong _cold_ lather of +clear water and white Castile soap. Fill the bottle with cold water, to +prevent its bursting, cork it well, and stand it upright in the suds, +with a string round the neck secured to the ears or handle of the +kettle, to prevent its knocking about and breaking while over the fire. +Let it boil in the suds for an hour or more, till the lace is clean and +white all through. Drain off the suds, and dry it on the bottle in the +sun. When dry, remove the lace from the bottle and roll it round a wide +ribbon-block; or lay it in long folds, place it within a sheet of +smooth, white, paper, and press it in a large book for a few days. + +TO WASH A WHITE LACE VEIL.--Put the veil into a strong lather of white +soap and very clear water, and let it simmer slowly for a quarter of an +hour. Take it out and squeeze it well, but be sure not to rub it. Rinse +it in two cold waters, with a drop or two of liquid blue in the last. +Have ready some very clear and weak gum-arabic water, or some thin +starch, or rice-water. Pass the veil through it, and clear it by +clapping. Then stretch it out even, and pin it to dry on a linen cloth, +making the edge as straight as possible, opening out all the scallops, +and fastening each with pins. When dry, lay a piece of thin muslin +smoothly over it, and iron it on the wrong side. + +TO WASH A BLACK LACE VEIL.--Mix bullock's gall with sufficient hot water +to make it as warm as you can bear your hand in. Then pass the veil +through it. It must be squeezed, and not rubbed. It will be well to +perfume the gall with a little musk. Next rinse the veil through two +cold waters, tinging the last with indigo. Then dry it. Have ready in a +pan some stiffening made by pouring boiling water on a very small piece +of glue. Pat the veil into it, squeeze it out, stretch it, and clap it. +Afterwards pin it out to dry on a linen cloth, making it very straight +and even, and taking care to open and pin the edge very nicely. When +dry, iron it on the wrong side, having laid a linen cloth over the +ironing-blanket. Any article of black lace may be washed in this manner. + +TO CLEAN WHITE SATIN AND FLOWERED SILKS.--1. Mix sifted stale bread +crumbs with powder blue, and rub it thoroughly all over, then shake it +well, and dust it with clean, soft cloths. Afterwards, where there are +any gold or silver flowers, take a piece of crimson ingrain velvet, rub +the flowers with it, which will restore them to their original lustre. +2. Pass them through a solution of fine hard soap, at a hand heat, +drawing them through the hand. Rinse in lukewarm water, dry and finish +by pinning out. Brush the flossy or bright side with a clean +clothes-brush, the way of the nap. Finish them by dipping a sponge into +a size, made by boiling isinglass in water, and rub the wrong side. +Rinse out a second time, and brush, and dry near a fire, or in a warm +room. Silks may be treated in the same way, but not brushed. + +TO CLEAN WHITE SILK.--Dissolve some of the best curd soap in boiling +water, and when the solution is as hot as the hand can bear, pass the +silk through it thoroughly, handling it gently, not to injure the +texture. If there are any spots, these may be rubbed carefully until +they disappear. The article must then be rinsed in lukewarm water. + +TO IRON SILK.--Silk cannot be ironed smoothly, so as to press out all +the creases, without first sprinkling it with water, and rolling it up +tightly in a towel, letting it rest for an hour or two. If the iron is +in the least too hot, it will injure the color, and it should first be +tried on an old piece of the same silk. + +TO WASH SILK.--Half a pint of gin, four ounces of soft soap, and two +ounces of honey, well shaken; then rub the silk, with a sponge (wetted +with the above mixture), upon a table, and wash through two waters, in +which first put two or three spoonfuls of ox gall, which will brighten +the colors, and prevent their running. The silks should not be wrung, +but well shaken and hung up smoothly to dry, and mangled while damp. The +writer has had _green_ silk dresses washed by this receipt, and they +have looked as well as new. + +TO RENOVATE BLACK SILK.--Slice some uncooked potatoes, pour boiling +water on them; when cold sponge the right side of the silk with it, and +iron on the wrong. + +TO KEEP SILK.--Silk articles should not be kept folded in white paper, +as the chloride of lime used in bleaching the paper will probably impair +the color of the silk. Brown or blue paper is better--the yellowish +smooth India paper is best of all. Silk intended for a dress should not +be kept in the house long before it is made up, as lying in the folds +will have a tendency to impair its durability by causing it to cut or +split, particularly if the silk has been thickened by gum. We knew an +instance of a very elegant and costly thread-lace veil being found, on +its arrival from France, cut into squares (and therefore destroyed) by +being folded over a pasteboard card. A white satin dress should be +pinned up in blue paper, with coarse brown paper outside, sewed together +at the edges. + +TO RESTORE VELVET.--When velvet gets plushed from pressure, holding the +reverse side over a basin of boiling water will raise the pile, and +perhaps it may also succeed in the case of wet from rain. + +TO IRON VELVET.--Having ripped the velvet apart, damp each piece +separately, and holding it tightly in both hands, stretch it before the +fire, the wrong side of the velvet being towards the fire. This will +remove the creases, and give the surface of the material a fresh and new +appearance. Velvet cannot be ironed on a table, for, when spread out on +a hard substance, the iron will not go smoothly over the pile. + +TO CLEAN ERMINE AND MINIVAR FUR.--Take a piece of soft flannel, and rub +the fur well with it (but remember that the rubbing must be always +against the grain); then rub the fur with common flour until clean. +Shake it well, and rub again with the flannel till all the flour is out +of it. I have had a Minivar boa for four years. It has never been +cleaned with anything but flour, and is not in the least injured by the +rubbing. It was a school companion who told me that her aunt (a Russian +lady) always cleaned her white furs with flour, and that they looked +quite beautiful. It has one advantage--the lining does not require to be +taken out, and it only requires a little trouble. Ermine takes longer +than Minivar. The latter is very easily done. + +TO PERFUME LINEN.--Rose-leaves dried in the shade, or at about four feet +from a stove, one pound; cloves, carraway-seeds, and allspice, of each +one ounce; pound in a mortar, or grind in a mill; dried salt, a quarter +of a pound; mix all these together, and put the compound into little +bags. + +TO RESTORE SCORCHED LINEN.--Take two onions, peel and slice them, and +extract the juice by squeezing or pounding. Then cut up half an ounce of +white soap, and two ounces of fuller's earth; mix with them the onion +juice, and half a pint of vinegar. Boil this composition well, and +spread it, when cool, over the scorched part of the linen, leaving it to +dry thereon. Afterwards wash out the linen. + +TO WHITEN LINEN THAT HAS TURNED YELLOW.--Cut up a pound of fine white +soap into a gallon of milk, and hang it over the fire in a wash-kettle. +When the soap has entirely melted, put in the linen, and boil it half an +hour. Then take it out; have ready a lather of soap and warm water; wash +the linen in it, and then rinse it through two cold waters, with a very +little blue in the last. + +TO WASH CHINA CRAPE SCARFS, &c.--If the fabric be good, these articles +of dress can be washed as frequently as may be required, and no +diminution of their beauty will be discoverable, even when the various +shades of green have been employed among other colors in the patterns. +In cleaning them, make a strong lather of boiling water--suffer it to +cool; when cold, or nearly so, wash the scarf quickly and thoroughly, +dip it immediately in cold hard water, in which a little salt has been +thrown (to preserve the colors), rinse, squeeze, and hang it out to dry +in the open air; pin it at its extreme edge to the line, so that it may +not in any part be folded together; the more rapidly it dries, the +clearer it will be. + +TO CLEAN EMBROIDERY AND GOLD LACE.--For this purpose no alkaline liquors +are to be used; for while they clean the gold, they corrode the silk, +and change its color. Soap also alters the shade, and even the species +of certain colors. But spirit of wine may be used without any danger of +its injuring either color or quality; and, in many cases, proves as +effectual for restoring the lustre of the gold as the corrosive +detergents. But, though spirits of wine is the most innocent material +employed for this purpose, it is not in all cases proper. The golden +covering may be in some parts worn off; or the base metal with which it +has been alloyed may be corroded by the air, so as to leave the +particles of the gold disunited; while the silver underneath, tarnished +to a yellow hue, may continue a tolerable color to the whole, so it is +apparent that the removal of the tarnish would be prejudicial, and make +the lace or embroidery less like gold than it was before. It is +necessary that care should be taken. + +TO REMOVE STAINS OF WINE OR FRUIT FROM TABLE LINEN.--A wine stain may +sometimes be removed by rubbing it, while wet, with common salt. It is +said, also, that sherry wine poured immediately on a place where port +wine has been spilled, will prevent its leaving a stain. A _certain_ way +of extracting fruit or wine stains from table-linen is to tie up some +cream of tartar in the stained part (so as to form a sort of bag), and +then to put the linen into a lather of soap and cold water, and boil it +awhile. Then transfer it wet to a lukewarm suds, wash and rinse it well, +and dry and iron it. The stains will disappear during the process. +Another way, is to mix, in equal quantities, soft soap, slackened lime, +and pearl-ash. Rub the stain with this preparation, and expose the linen +to the sun with the mixture plastered on it. If necessary, repeat the +application. As soon as the stain has disappeared, wash out the linen +immediately, as it will be injured if the mixture is left in it. + +STAIN MIXTURE.--Take an ounce of sal-ammoniac (or hartshorn) and an +ounce of salt of tartar--mix them well, put them into a pint of soft +water, and bottle it for use, keeping it very tightly corked. Pour a +little of this liquid into a saucer, and wash in it those parts of a +white article that have been stained with ink, mildew, fruit, or red +wine. When the stains have, by this process, been removed, wash the +article in the usual manner. + +CHEMICAL RENOVATING BALLS--for taking out grease, paint, pitch, tar, +from silks, stuffs, linen, woolen, carpets, hats, coats, &c., without +fading the color or injuring the cloth:--1/4 ounce of fuller's earth, +1/4 ounce of pipe-clay, 1 ounce salt of tartar, 1 ounce beef gall, 1 +ounce spirits of wine. Pound the hard parts and mix the ingredients well +together. Wet the stain with cold water, rub it well with this ball, +then sponge it with a wet sponge and the stain will disappear. + +TO PREVENT COLORED THINGS FROM RUNNING.--Boil 1/4 pound of soap till +nearly dissolved, then add a small piece of alum and boil with it. Wash +the things in this lather, but do not soap them. If they require a +second water put alum to that also as well as to the rinsing and blue +water. This will preserve them. + +TO REMOVE STAINS FROM MOURNING DRESSES.--Take a good handful of +fig-leaves, and boil them in two quarts of water until reduced to a +pint. Squeeze the leaves and put the liquor into a bottle for use. The +articles, whether of bombasin, crape, cloth, &c., need only be rubbed +with a sponge dipped in the liquor, when the effect will be instantly +produced. If any reason exists to prevent the substance from being +wetted, then apply French chalk, which will absorb the grease from the +finest texture without injury. + +TO SHRINK NEW FLANNEL.--New flannel should always be shrunk or washed +before it is made up, that it may be cut out more accurately, and that +the grease which is used in manufacturing it may be extracted. First, +cut off the list along the selvage edges of the whole piece. Then put it +into warm (not boiling) water, without soap. Begin at one end of the +piece, and rub it with both hands till you come to the other end; this +is to get out the grease and the blue with which new white flannel is +always tinged. Then do the same through another water. Rinse it through +a clean, lukewarm water; wring it lengthways, and stretch it well. In +hanging it out on a line do not suspend it in festoons, but spread it +along the line straight and lengthways. If dried in festoons, the edges +will be in great scollops, making it very difficult to cut out. It must +be dried in the sun. When dry let it be stretched even, clapped with the +hands, and rolled up tight and smoothly, till wanted. + +GUM ARABIC STARCH.--Get two ounces of fine, white gum arabic, and pound +it to powder. Next put it into a pitcher, and pour on it a pint or more +of boiling water (according to the degree of strength you desire), and +then, having covered it, let it set all night. In the morning, pour it +carefully from the dregs into a clean bottle, cork it, and keep it for +use. A table-spoonful of gum water stirred into a pint of starch that +has been made in the usual manner, will give to lawns (either white or +printed) a look of newness to which nothing else can restore them after +washing. It is also good (much diluted) for thin white muslin and +bobinet. + +TO WASH WHITE THREAD GLOVES AND STOCKINGS.--These articles are so +delicate as to require great care in washing, and they must not on any +account be rubbed. Make a lather of white soap and _cold_ water, and put +it into a saucepan. Soap the gloves or stockings well, put them in, and +set the saucepan over the fire. When they have come to a hard boil, take +them off, and when cool enough for your hand, squeeze them in the water. +Having prepared a fresh cold lather, boil them again in that. Then take +the pan off the fire, and squeeze them well again, after which they can +be stretched, dried, and then ironed on the wrong side. + +TO CLEAN SILK STOCKINGS.--First wash the stockings in the usual manner, +to take out the rough dirt. After rinsing them in clean water, wash them +well in a fresh soap liquor. Then make a third soap liquor, which color +with a little stone-blue; then wash the stockings once more, take them +out, wring them, and particularly dry them. Now stove them with +brimstone, and draw on a wooden leg two stockings, one upon the other, +observing that the two fronts or outsides are face to face. Polish with +a glass bottle. The two first liquors should be only lukewarm, but the +third as hot as you can bear your hand in. Blondes and gauzes may be +whitened in the same manner, but there should be a little gum put in the +last liquor before they are stoved. + +TO TAKE OUT MILDEW FROM CLOTHES.--Mix some soft soap with powdered +starch, half as much salt, and the juice of a lemon, lay it on the part +with a brush, let it be exposed in the air day and night, until the +stain disappears. Iron-moulds may be removed by the salt of lemons. Many +stains in linen may be taken out by dipping linen in sour buttermilk, +and then drying it in the sun; afterwards wash it in cold water several +times. Stains caused by acids may be removed by tying some pearlash up +in the stained part; scrape some soap in cold, soft water, and boil the +linen till the stain is out. + +BLEACHING STRAW.--Straw is bleached, and straw bonnets cleaned, by +putting them into a cask into which a few brimstone matches are placed +lighted. The fumes of the sulphur have the effect of destroying the +color, or whitening the straw. The same effect may be produced by +dipping the straw into the chloride of lime dissolved in water. + +TO WASH MOUSELINE-DE-LAINE.--Boil a pound of rice in five quarts of +water, and, when cool enough, wash in this, using the rice for soap. +Have another quantity ready, but strain the rice from this and use it +with warm water, keeping the rice strained off for a third washing +which, at the same time, stiffens and also brightens the colors. + +TO BLEACH A FADED DRESS.--Wash the dress in hot suds, and boil it until +the color appears to be gone; then rinse it and dry it in the sun. +Should it not be rendered white by these means, lay the dress in the +open air, and bleach it for several days. If still not quite white, +repeat the boiling. + +INDELIBLE MARKING INK, WITHOUT PREPARATION.--1-1/2 drachms nitrate of +silver (lunar caustic), 1 ounce distilled water, 1/2 ounce strong +mucilage of gum arabic, 3/4 drachm liquid ammonia; mix the above in a +clean glass bottle, cork tightly, and keep in a dark place till +dissolved, and ever afterwards. Directions for use:--Shake the bottle, +then dip a clean quill pen in the ink, and write or draw what you +require on the article; immediately hold it close to the fire, (without +scorching) or pass a hot iron over it, and it will become a deep and +indelible black, indestructible by either time or acids of any +description. + +MIXTURE FOR REMOVING INK STAINS AND IRON-MOULDS.--Cream of tartar and +salts of sorrel, one ounce each; mix well, and keep in a stoppered +bottle. + +TO WASH HAIR-BRUSHES.--Never use soap. Take a piece of soda, dissolve +it in warm water, stand the brush in it, taking care that the water only +covers the bristles; it will almost immediately become white and clean; +stand it to dry in the open air with the bristles downwards, and it will +be found to be as firm as a new brush. + +TO CLEAN HEAD AND CLOTHES-BRUSHES.--Put a table-spoonful of pearl-ash +into a pint of boiling water. Having fastened a bit of sponge to the end +of a stick, dip it into the solution, and wash the brush with it; +carefully going in among the bristles. Next pour over it some clean hot +water, and let it lie a little while. Then drain it, wipe it with a +cloth, and dry it before the fire. + +Lola Montez in her "Arts of Beauty" gives the following receipts for +complexion, hair, &c:-- + +FOR THE COMPLEXION.--"Infuse wheat-bran, well sifted, for four hours in +white wine vinegar, add to it five yolks of eggs and two grains of +ambergris, and distill the whole. It should be carefully corked for +twelve or fifteen days, when it will be fit for use. + +"Distill two handfuls of jessamine flowers in a quart of rose-water and +a quart of orange-water. Strain through porous paper, and add a scruple +of musk and a scruple of ambergris." + +TO GIVE ELASTICITY OF FORM.-- + + "Fat of the stag or deer 8 oz. + Florence oil (or olive oil) 6 oz. + Virgin wax 3 oz. + Musk 1 grain. + White brandy 1/2 pint. + Rose-water 4 oz. + +"Put the fat, oil, and wax into a well glazed earthen vessel, and let +them simmer over a slow fire until they are assimilated; then pour in +the other ingredients, and let the whole gradually cool, when it will be +fit for use. There is no doubt but that this mixture, frequently and +thoroughly rubbed upon the body on going to bed, will impart a +remarkable degree of elasticity to the muscles. In the morning, after +this preparation has been used, the body should be thoroughly wiped with +a sponge, dampened with cold water." + +FOR THE COMPLEXION.--"Take equal parts of the seeds of the melon, +pumpkin, gourd, and cucumber, pounded till they are reduced to powder; +add to it sufficient fresh cream to dilute the flour, and then add milk +enough to reduce the whole to a thin paste. Add a grain of musk, and a +few drops of the oil of lemon. Anoint the face with this, leave it on +twenty or thirty minutes, or overnight if convenient, and wash off with +warm water. It gives a remarkable purity and brightness to the +complexion. + +"Infuse a handful of well sifted wheat bran for four hours in white wine +vinegar; add to it five yolks of eggs and two grains of musk, and +distill the whole. Bottle it, keep carefully corked fifteen days, when +it will be fit for use. Apply it over night, and wash in the morning +with tepid water." + +TOOTH-POWDER.-- + + "Prepared chalk 6 oz. + Cassia powder 1/2 oz. + Orris-root 1 oz. + +"These should be thoroughly mixed and used once a day with a firm +brush. + +"A simple mixture of charcoal and cream of tartar is an excellent +tooth-powder." + +TO WHITEN THE HAND.--"Both Spanish and French women--those, at least, +who are very particular to make the most of these charms--are in the +habit of sleeping in gloves which are lined or plastered over with a +kind of pomade to improve the delicacy and complexion of their hands. +This paste is generally made of the following ingredients:-- + +"Take half a pound of soft soap, a gill of salad oil, an ounce of mutton +tallow, and boil them till they are thoroughly mixed. After the boiling +has ceased, but before it is cold, add one gill of spirits of wine, and +a grain of musk. + +"If any lady wishes to try this, she can buy a pair of gloves three or +four sizes larger than the hand, rip them open and spread on a thin +layer of the paste, and then sew the gloves up again. There is no doubt +that by wearing them every night they will give smoothness and a fine +complexion to the hands. Those who have the means, can send to Paris and +purchase them ready made. + +"If the hands are inclined to be rough and to chap, the following wash +will remedy the evil. + + Lemon-juice 3 oz. + White wine vinegar 3 oz. + White brandy 1/2 pint." + +FOR THE HAIR.--"Beat up the white of four eggs into a froth, and rub +that thoroughly in close to the roots of the hair. Leave it to dry on. +Then wash the head and hair clean with a mixture of equal parts of rum +and rose-water." + +"HONEY-WATER.-- + + "Essence of ambergris 1 dr. + Essence of musk 1 dr. + Essence of bergamot 2 drs. + Oil of cloves 15 drops. + Orange-flower water 4 oz. + Spirits of wine 5 oz. + Distilled water 4 oz. + +"All these ingredients should be mixed together, and left about fourteen +days, then the whole to be filtered through porous paper, and bottled +for use. + +"This is a good hair-wash and an excellent perfume." + +"TO REMOVE PIMPLES.--There are many kinds of pimples, some of which +partake almost of the nature of ulcers, which require medical treatment; +but the small red pimple, which is most common, may be removed by +applying the following twice a-day:-- + + "Sulphur water 1 oz. + Acetated liquor of ammonia 1/4 oz. + Liquor of potassa 1 gr. + White wine vinegar 2 oz. + Distilled water 2 oz." + +"TO REMOVE BLACK SPECKS OR 'FLESHWORMS.'--Sometimes little black specks +appear about the base of the nose, or on the forehead, or in the hollow +of the chin which are called 'fleshworms,' and are occasioned by +coagulated lymph that obstructs the pores of the skin. They may be +squeezed out by pressing the skin, and ignorant persons suppose them to +be little worms. They are permanently removed by washing with warm +water, and severe friction with a towel, and then applying a little of +the following preparation:-- + + "Liquor of potassa 1 oz. + Cologne 2 oz. + White brandy. 4 oz. + +"The warm water and friction alone are sometimes sufficient." + +"TO REMOVE FRECKLES.--The most celebrated compound ever used for the +removal of freckles was called Unction de Maintenon, after the +celebrated Madame de Maintenon, mistress and wife of Louis XIV. It is +made as follows:-- + + "Venice soap 1 oz. + Lemon-juice 1/2 oz. + Oil of bitter almonds 1/4 oz. + Deliquidated oil of tartar 1/4 oz. + Oil of rhodium 3 drops + +"First dissolve the soap in the lemon-juice, then add the two oils, and +place the whole in the sun till it acquires the consistence of ointment, +and then add the oil of rhodium. Anoint the freckly face at night with +this unction, and wash in the morning with pure water, or, if +convenient, with a mixture of elder-flower and rose-water. + +"TO REMOVE TAN.--An excellent wash to remove tan is called Creme de +l'Enclos, and is made thus: + + "New milk 1/2 pint. + Lemon-juice 1/4 oz. + White brandy 1/2 oz. + +"Boil the whole, and skim it clear from all scum. Use it night and +morning. + +"A famous preparation with the Spanish ladies for removing the effects +of the sun and making the complexion bright, is composed simply of equal +parts of lemon-juice and the white of eggs. The whole is beat together +in a varnished earthen pot, and set over a slow fire, and stirred with a +wooden spoon till it acquires the consistence of soft pomatum. This +compound is called Pommade de Seville. If the face is well washed with +rice-water before it is applied, it will remove freckles, and give a +fine lustre to the complexion." + + + + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + +Transcriber's Note: + + +Minor punctuation errors (e.g. missing, misprinted or misplaced +punctuation) have been corrected without note. Inconsistent hyphenation +(e.g. ball room, ball-room; bon-bons, bonbons), spelling (e.g. visiters, +visitors) and capitalization (e.g. neroli, Neroli) have not been +corrected. + +Many of the "Receipts" are nearly identical. This has not been changed. + +The following changes were made to the text: + +p. 31: admissable to admissible (black lace mittens are admissible) + +p. 45: oclock to o'clock (Thursday evening next, at 8 o'clock) + +p. 137: left to right (On the upper right hand corner of your envelope) + +p. 160: violincello to violoncello (a piano, violin, and violoncello) + +p. 204: missing "of" added (the most graceful of dances) + +p. 214: guaze to gauze (with a gauze of a different color) + +p. 221: kneedles to needles (needles should be of the smallest size) + +p. 235: extra close quote removed (entered that house.) + +p. 244: extra "the" removed (in the highest and lowest classes) + +p. 260: returnes to returns (she returns from her bridal tour) + +p. 278: double quotes to single quotes ('Appetite,' says Dr. Combe, +'revives after repose.') + +p. 305: extra "a" removed (containing a mixture in equal portions) + +p. 318: extra "of" removed (four ounces of butter) + +p. 326: inpair to impair (impair the color) + +p. 340: acquired to acquires (till it acquires) + +------------------------------------------------------------------------ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Book of Etiquette, and +Manual of Politeness, by Florence Hartley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' BOOK OF ETIQUETTE *** + +***** This file should be named 35123.txt or 35123.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/1/2/35123/ + +Produced by Julia Miller, S.D., and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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