initial commit of ebook 37988HEADmain

9 files changed, 27442 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/37988-8.txt b/37988-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..441bcb6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/37988-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9083 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness and
+Perfect Manners, by Eliza Leslie
+
+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' Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners
+       or, Miss Leslie's Behaviour Book
+
+Author: Eliza Leslie
+
+Release Date: November 12, 2011 [EBook #37988]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' GUIDE TO TRUE POLITENESS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Julia Miller, JoAnn Greenwood, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    THE LADIES' GUIDE
+
+    TO TRUE
+
+    POLITENESS AND PERFECT MANNERS;
+
+    OR,
+
+    MISS LESLIE'S BEHAVIOUR BOOK.
+
+
+    A GUIDE AND MANUAL FOR LADIES,
+
+    AS REGARDS THEIR
+
+    CONVERSATION; MANNERS; DRESS; INTRODUCTIONS; ENTRE TO SOCIETY;
+    SHOPPING; CONDUCT IN THE STREET; AT PLACES OF AMUSEMENT; IN
+    TRAVELING; AT THE TABLE, EITHER AT HOME, IN COMPANY, OR
+    AT HOTELS; DEPORTMENT IN GENTLEMEN'S SOCIETY; LIPS;
+    COMPLEXION; TEETH; HANDS; THE HAIR; ETC., ETC.
+
+    WITH FULL INSTRUCTIONS AND ADVICE IN
+
+    LETTER WRITING; RECEIVING PRESENTS; INCORRECT WORDS; BORROWING;
+    OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN; OFFENCES; CHILDREN; DECORUM IN
+    CHURCH; AT EVENING PARTIES; AND SUGGESTIONS IN BAD
+    PRACTICES AND HABITS EASILY CONTRACTED, WHICH NO
+    YOUNG LADY SHOULD BE GUILTY OF, ETC., ETC.
+
+
+    BY MISS LESLIE.
+
+    AUTHOR OF "MISS LESLIE'S CELEBRATED NEW COOKERY BOOK,"
+    "MISS LESLIE'S NEW RECEIPTS FOR COOKING," ETC.
+
+
+    Philadelphia:
+    T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS,
+    306 CHESTNUT STREET.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by
+
+    T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS,
+
+    the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and
+    for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+It is said that soon after the publication of Nicholas Nickleby, not
+fewer than six Yorkshire schoolmasters (or rather six principals of
+Yorkshire institutes) took journeys to London, with the express purpose
+of prosecuting Dickens for libels--"each one and severally" considering
+himself shown up to the world as Mr. Squeers of Dotheboys Hall.
+
+Now, if Dickens had drawn as graphic a picture of Dothe_girls_ Hall, we
+firmly believe that none of the lady principals of similar institutes
+would have committed themselves by evincing so little tact, and adopting
+such impolitic proceedings. They would wisely have held back from all
+appropriation of the obnoxious character, and passed it over unnoticed;
+as if it could not possibly have the slightest reference to _them_.
+
+Therefore we wish that those of our fair readers whom certain hints in
+the following pages may awaken to the consciousness of a few habitual
+misbehavements, (of which they were not previously aware,) should pause,
+and reflect, before they allow themselves to "take umbrage too much."
+Let them keep in mind that the purpose of the writer is to amend, and
+not to offend; to improve her young countrywomen, and not to annoy them.
+It is with this view only that she has been induced to "set down in a
+note-book" such lapses from _les bienséances_ as she has remarked during
+a long course of observation, and on a very diversified field.
+
+She trusts that her readers will peruse this book in as friendly a
+spirit as it was written.
+
+                                ELIZA LESLIE.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                             PAGE
+
+    SUGGESTIONS TO VISITERS                     2
+
+    THE VISITED                                24
+
+    TEA VISITERS                               30
+
+    THE ENTRÉE                                 47
+
+    INTRODUCTIONS                              52
+
+    CONDUCT IN THE STREET                      65
+
+    SHOPPING                                   71
+
+    PLACES OF AMUSEMENT                        87
+
+    TRAVELLING                                 92
+
+    DEPORTMENT AT A HOTEL                     101
+
+    HOTEL DINNER                              120
+
+    SHIP-BOARD                                143
+
+    LETTERS                                   150
+
+    PRESENTS                                  174
+
+    CONVERSATION                              185
+
+    INCORRECT WORDS                           216
+
+    BORROWING                                 225
+
+    OFFENCES                                  243
+
+    OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN                  250
+
+    CONDUCT TO LITERARY WOMEN                 256
+
+    SUGGESTIONS TO INEXPERIENCED AUTHORS      274
+
+    CHILDREN                                  285
+
+    DECORUM IN CHURCH                         299
+
+    EVENING PARTIES                           304
+
+    MISCELLANIES                              330
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+        MISS LESLIE'S
+
+        BEHAVIOUR BOOK.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+SUGGESTIONS TO VISITERS.
+
+
+An amusing writer of the last century, justly complains of the want of
+definite words to express, distinctly and unmistakably, the different
+degrees of visits, with reference to their length. Whether the stay of
+the guest comprises ten minutes, an hour, an evening, a day, a week, or
+a month, still it goes under the vague and general term of a visit.
+
+We propose, humourously, that if the stay of the guest exceeds a week,
+it should be called "a visitation." If it includes a dining, or a
+tea-drinking, or evening-spending, it may be termed "a visit;" while a
+mere call can be mentioned as "a vis."
+
+The idea is a very convenient one, and we should like to see it carried
+out by general adoption. Meanwhile, we must, for the present, be
+contented with the old uncertain practice of saying only "visit" and
+"visiter." We think it our duty to explain that this chapter is designed
+for the benefit of such inexperienced females as may be about to engage
+in what we should like to call "a visitation."
+
+To begin at the beginning:--
+
+Do not _volunteer_ a visit to a friend in the country, or in another
+town, unless you have had what is called "a standing invitation," with
+every reason to believe that it was sincerely and cordially given. Many
+invitations are mere "words of course," without meaning or motive,
+designed only to make a show of politeness, and not intended to be taken
+literally, or ever acted upon. Even when convinced that your friend is
+really your friend, that she truly loves you, has invited you in all
+sincerity, and will be happy in your society, still, it is best to
+apprize her, duly, of the exact day and hour when she may expect you;
+always with the proviso that it is convenient to herself to receive you
+at that time, and desiring her to let you know, candidly, if it is not.
+However close your intimacy, an unexpected arrival may possibly produce
+inconvenience to your hostess; particularly if her family is numerous,
+or her bedchambers few. The case is somewhat different, where the house
+is large, and where there is no scarcity of apartments for guests, of
+servants to wait on them, or of money to furnish the means of
+entertaining them liberally. But even then, the time of arrival should
+be previously intimated, and observed as punctually as possible. Such
+are now the facilities of travelling, and the rapidity of transmitting
+intelligence, that there is no excuse for unexpected or ill-timed
+visits; and when unexpected, they are too frequently ill-timed. When
+attempted as "agreeable surprises," they are seldom very agreeable to
+the surprised. Also the improvement in manners has rendered these
+incursions old-fashioned and ungenteel. Above all, never volunteer
+visits to families whose circumstances are so narrow that they can ill
+afford the expense of a guest.
+
+Having received an invitation, reply to it immediately; and do not keep
+your friends waiting, day after day, in uncertainty whether you mean to
+accept or decline it; causing them, perhaps, to delay asking other
+visiters till they have ascertained if you are to be expected or not.
+
+Excuse yourself from accepting invitations from persons whom you do not
+like, and whose dispositions, habits, feelings, and opinions are in most
+things the reverse of your own. There can be no pleasure in daily and
+familiar intercourse where there is no congeniality. Such visits never
+end well; and they sometimes produce irreconcilable quarrels, or at
+least a lasting and ill-concealed coolness. Though for years you may
+have always met on decent terms, you may become positive enemies from
+living a short time under the same roof; and there is something
+dishonourable in laying yourself under obligations and receiving
+civilities from persons whom you secretly dislike, and in whose society
+you can have little or no enjoyment.
+
+When you arrive, take occasion to mention how long you intend to stay;
+that your hostess may plan her arrangements accordingly. It is rude and
+inconsiderate to keep her in ignorance of the probable duration of your
+visit. And when the allotted time has expired, do not be persuaded to
+extend it farther, unless you are earnestly, and with undoubted
+sincerity invited to do so. It is much better that your friends should
+part with you reluctantly, than you should give them reason to wish your
+visit shorter. Even if it _has_ been very pleasant on both sides, it may
+not continue so if prolonged too far. Take care of wearing out your
+welcome. Besides, your room may be wanted for another guest.
+
+On your first evening, enquire the hours of the house, that you may
+always be ready to comply with them. Rise early enough to be washed and
+dressed in time for breakfast; but if you are ready too early, remain in
+your own apartment, or walk about the garden, or go to the library till
+the cleaning and arranging of the sitting-room has been completed.
+Meanwhile, you can occupy yourself with a book, if you stay in your own
+room.
+
+As soon as you quit your bed, take off the bedclothes, (each article
+separately,) and spread them widely over the chairs, turning the
+mattrass or bed as far down as it will go. This will give the bedding
+time to air; and in all houses it should be done every morning, the
+whole year round. Before you leave the room, raise the windows as high
+as they will go, (unless it should be raining, or snowing,) that the
+apartment may be well ventilated. Fortunate are those who have been
+accustomed to sleeping always with the sash more or less open, according
+to the weather, or the season. Their health will be much the better for
+the excellent practice of constantly admitting fresh air into their
+sleeping-room. See Dr. Franklin's essay on the "Art of Sleeping Well."
+Mr. Combe, who has written copiously on this subject, says it not only
+improves the health, but the complexion; and that ladies who follow this
+practice continue to look young long after those who sleep in close
+rooms have faded and shrivelled. Except in a very unhealthy climate, or
+in the neighbourhood of marshes, no external air can be so unwholesome,
+or productive of such baneful effects on the constitution, as the same
+air breathed over and over again in a close room, and returning
+continually to the lungs, till before morning it becomes unfit to be
+breathed at all. Sleeping with the windows closed in a room newly
+painted has produced fatal diseases. To some lungs the vapour of white
+lead is poisonous. To none is it quite innoxious. Its dangerous
+properties may be neutralized by placing in newly-painted rooms, large
+tubs of water, into each of which has been mixed an ounce of vitriol.
+The tubs must be set near the walls, and the water and vitriol renewed
+every day. The introduction of zinc-paint promises to put that of white
+lead out of use; as zinc is quite as cheap, and not at all pernicious to
+health.
+
+At sleeping hours the air of a bedroom should be perfectly free from all
+scents, either pleasant or otherwise. Many persons cannot sleep with
+flowers in their chamber, or with any sort of perfume. It is best not.
+
+If when on a visit, you find that the chambermaid does not make your bed
+so that you can sleep comfortably, show her how to do it, (privately,)
+but say nothing to your hostess. There is but one way of making a bed
+properly; and yet it is surprising how little that way is known or
+remembered. First, shake up the bed high and evenly; turning it over,
+and see that the foot is not higher than the head. If there is a
+mattrass above the bed, turn the mattrass half up, and then half down,
+till you have shaken up the bed beneath. Next spread on the under-sheet,
+laying it well over the bolster to secure it from dragging down and
+getting under the shoulders. However, to most beds now, there is a
+bolster-case. Then tuck in the under-sheet, well, at both sides, to
+prevent its getting loose and disordered in the night. For the same
+reason tuck in the upper-sheet, well, at the foot, leaving the sides
+loose. Tuck in the blankets at bottom, but not at the sides. Lay the
+counterpane smoothly over the whole. Turn it down at the top; and turn
+down the upper-sheet above it, so as to conceal the blankets entirely.
+
+Should the chambermaid neglect your room, or be remiss in filling your
+pitchers, or in furnishing you with clean towels, speak to her on the
+subject when alone. She will hardly, for her own sake, inform her
+mistress that you have had occasion to find fault with her; unless she
+is very insolent or sulky, she will say she is sorry, and will promise
+to do better in future. Complaining to her mistress of these neglects
+will probably give offence to the lady, who may be of that wayward
+(though too common) disposition which will allow no one except herself,
+to find any deficiency in _her_ servants. As mistresses are frequently
+very touchy on these points, your hostess may hint that your statement
+is incredible, and that "no one ever complained before." Above all
+things, avoid letting her know that you have found or felt insects in
+your bed; a circumstance that may chance sometimes to happen even in the
+best kept houses. In a warm climate, or in an old house, the utmost care
+and the most vigilant neatness cannot always prevent it. It may be
+caused by the bringing of baggage from boats, or ships, and by servants
+neglecting their own beds; a too common practice with them, unless the
+mistress or her housekeeper compels them to be cleanly, and sees that
+they are so.
+
+If you have proof positive that your bed is not free from these
+intolerable nuisances, confide this fact to the chambermaid only, and
+desire her to attend to it speedily. She will do so the more readily, if
+you promise her a reward in case of complete success. Enjoining her to
+manage this as quietly as possible, and to say nothing about it to any
+one, may spare you a scene with your hostess; who, though you have
+always regarded her as your warm friend, may, notwithstanding, become
+your enemy for life, in consequence of your having presumed to be
+incommoded in _her_ house, where "nobody ever complained before." A
+well-bred, sensible, good-tempered woman will not, of course, take
+offence for such a cause; and will believe that there must have been
+good reason for the complaint, rather than suppose that her guest and
+her friend would mention so delicate a subject even to a servant, unless
+there was positive proof. And she will rightly think it was well to make
+it known, and have it immediately remedied. But all women who invite
+friends to visit them, are not sensible and good-tempered. Therefore,
+take care.
+
+For similar reasons, should a servant purloin any article belonging to
+you, (and servants, considered quite honest, will sometimes pilfer from
+a visiter when they would not dare to do so from their mistress,) it is
+safest to pass it over, unless the article stolen is of consequence. You
+may find your hostess very unwilling to believe that a servant of _hers_
+could possibly be dishonest; and much may be said, or evidently
+_thought_, that will be very painful to you, her guest.
+
+Notwithstanding all that may be said to you about "feeling yourself
+perfectly at home," and "considering your friend's house as your own,"
+be very careful not literally to do so. In fact, it is impossible you
+_should_ with any propriety--particularly, if it is your first visit.
+You cannot possibly know the real character and disposition of any
+acquaintance, till after you have had some experience in living under
+the same roof. If you find your hostess all that you can desire, and
+that she is making your visit every way agreeable, be very grateful to
+her, and let her understand that you are exceedingly happy at her house;
+but avoid staying too long, or taxing her kindness too highly.
+
+Avoid encroaching unreasonably upon her time. Expect her not to devote
+an undue portion of it to you. She will probably be engaged in the
+superintendence of household affairs, or in the care of her young
+children, for two or three hours after breakfast. So at these hours do
+not intrude upon her,--but amuse yourself with some occupation of your
+own, till you see that it is convenient to the family for you to join
+them in the sitting-room. In summer afternoons, retire for an hour or
+more, soon after dinner, to your own apartment, that you may give your
+friends an opportunity of taking their naps, and that you may do the
+same yourself. You will be brighter in the evening, from indulging in
+this practice; and less likely to feel sleepy, when you ought to be wide
+awake, and ready to assist in entertaining your entertainers. A silent
+visiter, whether silent from dulness or indolence, or a habit of
+taciturnity, is never an agreeable one.
+
+Yet, however pleasant the conversation, have sufficient self-denial to
+break off in seasonable time, so as not to keep the family up by
+continuing in the parlour till a late hour. Some of them may be tired
+and sleepy, though you are not. And between ten and eleven o'clock it is
+well to retire.
+
+If you have shopping to do, and are acquainted with the town, you can be
+under no necessity of imposing on any lady of the family the task of
+accompanying you. To shop _for_ others, or _with_ others, is a most
+irksome fatigue. Even when a stranger in the place, you can easily, by
+enquiring of the family, learn where the best stores are to be found,
+and go to them by yourself.
+
+While you are a guest at the house of a friend, do not pass too much of
+your time in visiting at _other_ houses, unless she is with you. You
+have no right to avail yourself of the conveniences of eating and
+sleeping at her mansion, without giving her and her family the largest
+portion of your company.
+
+While a guest yourself, it is taking an unwarrantable liberty to invite
+any of your friends or relatives to come there and spend a day or
+days.[1]
+
+Refrain from visiting any person with whom your hostess is at enmity,
+even if that person has been one of your own intimate friends. You will
+in all probability be regarded as "a spy in the camp." There is nothing
+so difficult as to observe a strict neutrality; and on hearing both
+sides, it is scarcely possible not to lean more to the one than to the
+other. The friend whose hospitality you are enjoying will soon begin to
+look coldly upon you, if she finds you seeking the society of her enemy;
+and she may evince that coldness whenever you come home from these
+visits. However unjust her suspicions, it is too probable she may begin
+to think that you are drawn in to make her, and her house, and family,
+subjects of conversation when visiting her adversary; therefore, she
+will cease to feel kindly toward you. If you understand, soon after your
+arrival, that there is no probability of a reconciliation, send at once
+a concise note to the lady with whom your hostess is at variance;
+express your regret at the circumstance, and excuse yourself from
+visiting her while you remain in your present residence. This note
+should be polite, short, and decisive, and so worded as to give no
+offence to either side; for, before sending, it is proper for you to
+show it, while yet unsealed, to the friend with whom you are staying. And
+then let the correspondence be carried no further. The lady to whom it
+is addressed, will, of course, return a polite answer; such as you may
+show to your hostess.
+
+It is to be presumed, she will not be so lost to all delicacy and
+propriety, as to intrude herself into the house of her enemy for the
+purpose of visiting you. But, if she does, it is your place civilly to
+decline seeing her. A slight coolness, a mere offence on a point of
+etiquette, which, if let alone, would die out like a tinder-spark, has
+been fanned, and blown into a flame by the go-betweening of a so-called
+_mutual friend_. We repeat, while you are a visiter at a house, hold no
+intercourse with any foe of that house. It is unkind and disrespectful
+to the family with whom you are staying, and very unsafe for yourself.
+
+If you know that your friends are hurried with their sewing, or with
+preparations for company, offer to assist them, as far as you can. But
+if you are conscious of an incapacity to do such things well, it is
+better to excuse yourself by candidly saying so, than to attempt them
+and spoil them. At the same time, express your willingness to learn, if
+permitted. And you _may_ learn, while staying at the house of a clever,
+notable friend, many things that you have hitherto had no opportunity of
+acquiring.
+
+When called on by any of your own acquaintances, they will not expect
+you to ask them to stay to tea, or to dinner. That is the business of
+your hostess--not yours.
+
+If you are a young lady that has beaux, remember that you have no right
+to encourage the over-frequency of their visits in any house that is not
+your home, or to devote much of your time and attention to flirtation
+with them. Above all, avoid introducing to the family of your
+entertainers, young men whom they are likely in any respect to
+disapprove. No stranger who has the feelings of a gentleman, will make a
+_second_ visit to any house unless he is invited by the head of the
+family, and he will take care that his visits shall not begin too early,
+or continue too late. However delightful he may find the society of his
+lady-fair, he has no right to incommode the family with whom she is
+staying, by prolonging his visits to an unseasonable hour. If he seems
+inclined to do so, there is nothing amiss in his fair-one herself
+hinting to him that it is past ten o'clock. Also, there should be "a
+temperance" even in his morning calls. It is rude in a young lady and
+gentleman to monopolize one of the parlours nearly all the
+forenoon--even if they are _really_ courting--still more if they are
+only pretending to court; for instance, sitting close to each other, and
+whispering on subjects that might be discussed aloud before the whole
+house, and talked of across the room.
+
+Young ladies noted for abounding in beaux, are generally rather
+inconvenient visiters; except in very spacious houses, and in gay, idle
+families. They should not take the liberty of inviting the said beaux
+to stay to dinner or to tea. Leave that civility to the head of the
+house,--without whose invitation no _gentleman_ ought to remain.
+
+It is proper for visiters to put out and pay for their own washing,
+ironing, &c. Therefore, carry among your baggage two clothes-bags; one
+to be taken away by the laundress, the other to receive your clothes in
+the interval. You may always hear of a washerwoman, by enquiring of the
+servants of the house.
+
+On no consideration question the servants, or talk to them about the
+family, particularly if they are slaves.
+
+Take with you a small writing-case, containing whatever stationery you
+may be likely to want during your visit; including post-office stamps.
+Thus you will spare yourself, and spare the family, the inconvenience of
+applying to them whenever you have occasion for pen, ink, paper, &c. If
+you have no ink with you, the first time you go out, stop in at a
+stationer's store, and buy a small sixpenny bottle that will stand
+steadily alone, and answer the purpose of an inkstand. Also, take care
+to be well supplied with all sorts of sewing articles. There are young
+ladies who go from home on long visits, quite unprovided with even
+thimbles and scissors; depending all the time on borrowing. Many
+visiters, though very agreeable in great things, are exceedingly
+troublesome in little ones.
+
+Take care not to slop your washing-stand, or to lay a piece of wet soap
+upon it. Spread your wet towels carefully on the towel-rail. See that
+your trunks are not placed so near the wall as to injure the paper or
+paint when the lid is thrown back.
+
+If, when travelling, you are to stop but one night at the house of a
+friend, it is not necessary, for that one night, to have _all_ your
+baggage carried up-stairs, particularly if your trunks are large or
+heavy. Before leaving home, put into your carpet-bag all the things you
+will require for that night; and then no other article of your baggage
+need be taken up to your chamber. They can be left down-stairs, in some
+safe and convenient place, which your hostess will designate. This will
+save much trouble, and preclude all the injury that may otherwise accrue
+to the banisters and staircase-wall, by the corners of trunks knocking
+against them. It is possible to put into a carpet-satchel (that can be
+carried in your own hand) a night-gown and night-cap, (tightly rolled,)
+with hair-brush, combs, tooth-brush, &c. It is surprising how much these
+hand-satchels may be made to contain, when packed closely. No lady or
+gentleman should travel without one. In going from home for one night
+only, a satchel is, frequently, all that is requisite.
+
+On concluding your visit, tell your entertainers that it has been
+pleasant, and express your gratitude for the kindness you have received
+from them, and your hope that they will give you an opportunity of
+returning their civilities. Give a parting gratuity to each of the
+servants--the sum being according to your means, and to the length of
+your visit. Give this to each servant _with your own hands_, going to
+them for the purpose. Do not tempt their integrity, by entrusting (for
+instance) to the chambermaid the fee intended for the cook. She may
+dishonestly keep it to herself, and make the cook believe that you were
+"so mean as to go away without leaving any thing at all for her." Such
+things have happened, as we know. Therefore, give all your fees in
+person.
+
+After you get home, write very soon (within two or three days) to the
+friend at whose house you have been staying, tell her of your journey,
+&c., and allude to your visit as having been very agreeable.
+
+The visit over, be of all things careful not to repeat any thing that
+has come to your knowledge in consequence, and which your entertainers
+would wish to remain unknown. While inmates of their house, you may have
+unavoidably become acquainted with some particulars of their way of
+living not generally known, and which, perhaps, would not raise them in
+public estimation, if disclosed. Having been their guest, and partaken
+of their hospitality, you are bound in honour to keep silent on every
+topic that would injure them in the smallest degree, if repeated.
+Unhappily, there are ladies so lost to shame, as, after making a long
+visit, to retail for the amusement of their cronies, all sorts of
+invidious anecdotes concerning the family at whose house they have been
+staying; adding by way of corroboration--"I assure you this is all true,
+for I stayed five or six weeks at their house, and had a good chance of
+knowing." More shame then to tell it!
+
+Whatever painful discoveries are made during a visit, should be kept as
+closely secret as if secrecy was enjoined by oath. It is not sufficient
+to refrain from "mentioning names." No clue should be given that could
+possibly enable the hearers even to hazard a guess.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[1] So it is to order the carriage without first asking permission of
+your hostess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE VISITED.
+
+
+Having invited a friend to pass a few days or weeks at your house, and
+expecting her at a certain time, send a carriage to meet her at the
+rail-road depôt or the steamboat wharf, and if her host or hostess goes
+in it, so much the better; but do not take the children along, crowding
+the vehicle, for the sake of giving them a ride. Arriving at your house,
+have her baggage taken at once to the apartment prepared for her, and
+when she goes up-stairs, send a servant with her to unstrap her trunks.
+Then let her be left _alone_ to arrange her dress. It is to be supposed
+that before her arrival, the mistress of the house has inspected the
+chamber of her guest, to see that all is right--that there are _two_
+pitchers full of fresh water on the stand, and three towels on the rail,
+(two fine and one coarse,) with a china mug for teeth-cleaning, and a
+tumbler to drink from; a slop jar of course, and a foot-bath. We
+conclude that in all genteel and well-furnished houses, none of these
+articles are wanting in every bedroom. On the mantel-piece a candle or
+lamp, with a box of lucifer matches beside it--the candle to be replaced
+by a new one every morning when the chambermaid arranges the room--or
+the lamp to be trimmed daily; so that the visiter may have a light at
+hand whenever she pleases, without ringing the bell and waiting till a
+servant brings one up.
+
+By-the-bye, when a guest is expected, see previously that the bells and
+locks of her room are in order; and if they are not, have them repaired.
+
+If it is cold weather, let her find a good fire in her room; and the
+shutters open, that she may have sufficient light. Also an extra
+blanket, folded, and laid on the foot of the bed. If summer, let the
+sashes be raised, and the shutters bowed. The room should have an easy
+chair with a heavy foot-cushion before it,--a low chair also, to sit on
+when shoes and stockings are to be changed, and feet washed. In a spare
+chamber there should be both a mattrass and a feather-bed, that your
+visiters may choose which they will have uppermost. Though you and all
+your own family may like to sleep hard, your guests may find it
+difficult to sleep at all on a mattrass with a paillasse under it. To
+many constitutions hard sleeping is not only intolerable, but pernicious
+to health.
+
+Let the centre-table be furnished with a writing-case well supplied with
+all that is necessary, the inkstand filled, and with _good black ink_;
+and some sheets of letter-paper and note-paper laid near it. Also, some
+books, such as you think your friend will like. Let her find, at least,
+one bureau vacant; _all_ the drawers empty, so that she may be able to
+unpack her muslins, &c., and arrange them at once. The same with the
+wardrobe or commode, so that she may have space to hang up her
+dresses--the press-closet, likewise, should be for her use while she
+stays.
+
+By giving up the spare bedroom _entirely_ to your visiter you will very
+much oblige her, and preclude the necessity of disturbing or
+interrupting her by coming in to get something out of drawers, closets,
+&c.
+
+Every morning, after the chambermaid has done her duty, (the room of the
+visiter is the first to be put in order,) the hostess should go in to
+see that all is right. This done, no further inspection is necessary for
+that day. There are ladies who, when a friend is staying with them, are
+continually slipping into her chamber when she is out of it, to see if
+the guest has done nothing amiss--such as moving a chair to suit her own
+convenience, or opening a shutter to let in more light, at the possible
+risk of hastening imperceptibly the fading of the carpet. There are
+families who condemn themselves to a perpetual twilight, by living in
+the dimness of closed shutters, to the great injury of their eyes. And
+this is endured to retard awhile the fading of furniture too showy for
+comfort. We have seen staircase-windows kept always shut and bolted, (so
+that visiters had to grope their way in darkness,) lest the small
+portion of stair-carpet just beneath the window should fade before the
+rest.
+
+It is not pleasant to be a guest in a house where you perceive that
+your hostess is continually and fretfully on the watch, lest some almost
+imperceptible injury should accrue to the furniture. We have known
+ladies who were always uneasy when their visiters sat down on a sofa or
+an ottoman, and could not forbear inviting them to change their seats
+and take chairs. We suppose the fear was that the more the
+damask-covered seats were used, the sooner they would wear out. Let no
+visiter be so rash as to sit on a pier-divan with her back near a
+mirror. The danger is imminent--not only of breaking the glass by
+inadvertently leaning against it, but of certainly fretting its owner,
+with uneasiness, all the time. Children should be positively interdicted
+taking these precarious seats.
+
+It is very kind and considerate to enquire of your guest if there is any
+dish, or article of food that she particularly likes, so that you may
+have it on the table while she stays; and also, if there is any thing
+peculiarly disagreeable to her, so that you may refrain from having it
+during her visit. A well-bred and sensible woman will not encroach upon
+your kindness, or take an undue advantage of it, in this respect or any
+other.
+
+For such deficiencies as may be avoided or remedied, refrain from making
+the foolish apology that you consider her "no stranger"--and that you
+regard her "just as one of the family." If you invite her at all, it is
+your duty, for your own sake as well as hers, to treat her well in every
+thing. You will lose nothing by doing so.
+
+If she desires to assist you in sewing, and has brought no work of her
+own, you may avail yourself of her offer, and employ her in
+moderation--but let it be in moderation only, and when sitting in the
+family circle. When alone in her own room, she, of course, would much
+rather read, write, or occupy herself in some way for her own benefit,
+or amusement. There are ladies who seem to expect that their guests
+should perform as much work as hired seamstresses.
+
+Let the children be strictly forbidden to run into the apartments of
+visiters. Interdict them from going thither, unless sent with a message;
+and then let them be made to understand that they are always to knock at
+the door, and not go in till desired to do so. Also, that they are not
+to play and make a noise in the neighbourhood of her room. And when she
+comes into the parlour, that they are not to jump on her lap, put their
+hands into her pockets, or rummage her work-basket, or rumple and soil
+her dress by clinging to it with their hands. Neither should they be
+permitted to amuse themselves by rattling on the lower keys when she is
+playing on the piano, or interrupt her by teazing her all the time to
+play "for them to dance." All this we have seen, and the mothers have
+never checked it. To permit children to ask visiters for pennies or
+sixpences is mean and contemptible. And, if money _is_ given them by a
+guest, they should be made to return it immediately.
+
+Enquire on the first evening, if your visiter is accustomed to taking
+any refreshment before she retires for the night. If she is, have
+something sent up to her room every night, unless your own family are
+in the same habit. Then let sufficient for all be brought into the
+parlour. These little repasts are very pleasant, especially at the close
+of a long winter evening, and after coming home from a place of public
+amusement.
+
+To "welcome the coming--speed the parting guest"--is a good maxim. So
+when your visiter is about to leave you, make all smooth and convenient
+for her departure. Let her be called up at an early hour, if she is to
+set out in the morning. Send a servant up to strap and bring down her
+trunks, as soon as she has announced that they are ready; and see that
+an early breakfast is prepared for her, and some of the family up and
+dressed to share it with her. Slip some cakes into her satchel for her
+to eat on the road, in case, by some chance, she should not reach the
+end of her journey at the usual hour. Have a carriage at the door in due
+time, and let some male member of the family accompany her to the
+starting-place and see her off, attending to her baggage and procuring
+her tickets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+TEA VISITERS.
+
+
+When you have invited a friend to take tea with you, endeavour to render
+her visit as agreeable as you can; and try by all means _to make her
+comfortable_. See that your lamps are lighted at an early hour,
+particularly those of the entry and stair-case, those parts of the house
+always becoming dark as soon as the sun is down; and to persons coming
+in directly from the light of the open air, they always seem darker than
+they really are. Have the parlours lighted rather earlier than usual,
+that your guest, on her entrance, may be in no danger of running against
+the tables, or stumbling over chairs. In rooms heated by a furnace, or
+by any other invisible fire, it is still more necessary to have the
+lamps lighted early.
+
+If there is a coal-grate, see that the fire is burning clear and
+brightly, that the bottom has been well-raked of cinders and ashes, and
+the hearth swept clean. A dull fire, half-choked with dead cinders, and
+an ashy hearth, give a slovenly and dreary aspect to the most elegantly
+furnished parlour. A sufficiently large grate (if the fire is well made
+up, and plenty of fresh coal put on about six o'clock) will generally
+require no further replenishing during the evening, unless the weather
+is unusually cold; and then more fuel should be added at eight or nine
+o'clock, so as to make the room comfortable.
+
+In summer evenings, let the window-sashes be kept up, or the slats of
+the venetian blinds turned open, so that your guest may find the
+atmosphere of the rooms cool and pleasant. There should always be fans
+(feather or palm-leaf) on the centre-tables.
+
+The domestic that attends the door should be instructed to show the
+guest up-stairs, as soon as she arrives; conducting her to an unoccupied
+apartment, where she may take off her bonnet, and arrange her hair, or
+any part of her dress that may require change or improvement. The lady
+should then be left to herself. Nothing is polite that can possibly
+incommode or embarrass--therefore, it is a mistaken civility for the
+hostess, or some female member of the family to follow the visiter
+up-stairs, and remain with her all the time she is preparing for her
+appearance in the parlour. We have seen an inquisitive little girl
+permitted by her mother to accompany a guest to the dressing-table, and
+watch her all the while she was at the glass; even following her to the
+corner in which she changed her shoes; the child talking, and asking
+questions incessantly. This should not be. Let both mothers and children
+understand that, on all occasions, over-officiousness is not politeness,
+and that nothing troublesome and inconvenient is ever agreeable.
+
+The toilet-table should be always furnished with a clean hair-brush, and
+a nice comb. We recommend those hair-brushes that have a mirror on the
+back, so as to afford the lady a glimpse of the back of her head and
+neck. Better still, as an appendage to a dressing-table, is a regular
+hand-mirror, of sufficient size to allow a really _satisfactory_ view.
+These hand-mirrors are very convenient, to be used in conjunction with
+the large dressing-glass. Their cost is but trifling. The
+toilet-pincushion should always have pins in it. A small work-box
+properly furnished with needles, scissors, thimble, and cotton-spools,
+ought also to find a place on the dressing-table, in case the visiter
+may have occasion to repair any accident that may have happened to her
+dress.
+
+For want of proper attention to such things, in an ill-ordered, though
+perhaps a very showy establishment, we have known an _expected_ visiter
+ushered first into a dark entry, then shown into a dark parlour with an
+ashy hearth, and the fire nearly out: then, after groping her way to a
+seat, obliged to wait till a small hand-lamp could be procured to light
+her dimly up a steep, sharp-turning stair-case; and then, by the same
+lamp, finding on the neglected dressing-table a broken comb, an old
+brush, and an empty pincushion,--or (quite as probably) nothing at
+all--not to mention two or three children coming to watch and stare at
+her. On returning to the parlour, the visiter would probably find the
+fire just then making up, and the lamp still unlighted, because it had
+first to be trimmed. Meanwhile, the guest commences her visit with an
+uncomfortable feeling of self-reproach for coming too early; all things
+denoting that she was not expected so soon. In such houses everybody
+comes too early. However late, there will be nothing in readiness.
+
+The hostess should be in the parlour, prepared to receive her visiter,
+and to give her at once a seat in the corner of a sofa, or in a
+fauteuil, or large comfortable chair; if a rocking-chair, a footstool is
+an indispensable appendage. By-the-bye, the dizzy and ungraceful
+practice of rocking in a rocking-chair is now discontinued by all
+genteel people, except when entirely alone. A lady should never be seen
+to rock in a chair, and the rocking of a gentleman looks silly. Rocking
+is only fit for a nurse putting a baby to sleep. When children get into
+a large rocking-chair, they usually rock it over backward, and fall out.
+These chairs are now seldom seen in a parlour. Handsome, stuffed easy
+chairs, that are moved on castors, are substituted--and of these, half a
+dozen of various forms are not considered too many.
+
+Give your visiter a fan to cool herself, if the room is warm, or to
+shade her eyes from the glare of the fire or the light--for the latter
+purpose, a broad hand-screen is generally used, but a palm-leaf fan will
+do for both. In buying these fans, choose those whose handle is the firm
+natural stem, left remaining on the leaf. They are far better than those
+with handles of bamboo, which in a short time become loose and rickety.
+
+There are many persons who, professing never to use a fan themselves,
+seem to think that nobody can by any chance require one; and therefore
+they selfishly keep nothing of the sort in their rooms.
+
+If, in consequence of dining very late, you are in the custom of also
+taking tea at a late hour--or making but slight preparations for that
+repast--waive that custom when you expect a friend whom you know to be
+in the practice of dining early, and who, perhaps, has walked far enough
+to feel fatigued, and to acquire an appetite. For her accommodation,
+order the tea earlier than usual, and let it be what is called "a _good_
+tea." If there is ample room at table, do not have the tea carried
+round,--particularly if you have but one servant to hand the whole. It
+is tedious, inconvenient, and unsatisfactory. There is no comfortable
+way of eating bread and butter, toast, or buttered cakes, except when
+seated at table. When handed round, there is always a risk of their
+greasing the dresses of the ladies--the greasing of fingers is
+inevitable--though that is of less consequence, now that the absurd
+practice of eating in gloves is wisely abolished among genteel people.
+
+Still, if the company is too numerous for all to be commodiously seated
+at the usual family table, and if the table cannot be enlarged--it is
+better to have tea carried round by _two_ servants, even if an extra one
+is hired for the occasion, than to crowd your guests uncomfortably. One
+person too many will cause inconvenience to all the rest, however the
+hostess may try to pass it off, by assuring the company that there is
+quite room enough, and that she has seen a still larger number seated
+round that very table. Everybody knows that "what's impossible a'n't
+true."
+
+In setting a tea-table, see that there is not only enough, but _more
+than enough_ of cups and saucers, plates, knives and forks, spoons,
+napkins, &c. Let the _extra_ articles be placed near the lady of the
+house,--to be distributed, if wanted. We have known families who had the
+means and the inclination to be hospitable, that never sat down to table
+without several spare _covers_, as the French call them, ready for
+accidental guests.
+
+Unless you have domestics on whom you can implicitly rely, it is well to
+go into the eating-room about ten minutes before the announcement of
+tea, and to see that all is right; that the tea is strong and properly
+made, and the pot (which should be scalded twice) is not filled nearly
+to overflowing with a superabundance of water. The practice of drowning
+away all the flavour of the tea is strangely prevalent with servants;
+who are also very apt to neglect scalding the tea-pot; and who do not,
+or will not, remember that the kettle should be boiling hard at the
+moment the water is poured on the tea--otherwise the infusion will be
+insipid and tasteless, no matter how liberally the Chinese plant has
+been afforded.
+
+If your cook is not _habitually_ a good coffee-maker, the coffee will
+most probably be sent in cold, thick, and weak--for want of some
+previous supervision. Let it have that supervision.
+
+We have heard of tea-tables (even in splendid establishments) being left
+entirely to the _mis_management of incompetent or negligent servants; so
+that when the company sat down, there was found a deficiency in some of
+the indispensable appendages; such as spoons, and even forks, and
+napkins--butter-knives forgotten, and (worse than all) _cooking-butter_
+served in mistake for the better sort. By-the-bye, the use of
+cooking-butter should be abolished in all genteel-houses. If the butter
+is not good enough to eat on the surface of cold bread or on warm cakes,
+it is not good enough to eat in the inside of sweet cakes, or in pastry,
+or in any thing else; and is totally unfit to be mixed with vegetables
+or sauces. The use of butter is to make things taste well; if it makes
+them taste ill, let it be entirely omitted: for bad butter is not only
+unpalatable, but unwholesome. There are houses in which the money wasted
+on one useless bauble for the drawing-room would furnish the family with
+excellent fresh butter for a whole year--enough for all purposes.
+
+We know, _by experience_, that it is possible to make very fine butter
+even in the State of New York, and to have it fresh in winter as in
+summer, though not so rich and yellow. Let the cows be well fed, well
+sheltered, and _kept fat_ and clean--the dairy utensils always in
+perfect order--churning done twice or thrice every week--all the milk
+worked well out--and the butter will surely be good.
+
+If cakes for tea have been made at home, and they have turned out
+failures, (as is often the case with home-made cakes where there is not
+much practice in baking them,) do not have them brought to table at all,
+but send to a shop and get others. It is rude to set before your guests
+what you know is unfit for them to eat. And heavy, tough, ill-baked
+things are discreditable to any house where the means of obtaining
+better are practicable.
+
+In sending for cakes to a confectioner, do not _a second time_ allow him
+to put you off with stale ones. This many confectioners are in the
+practice of doing, if it is passed over without notice. Stale cakes
+should at once be sent back, (with a proper reproof,) and fresh ones
+required. Let the confectioner with whom you deal understand that he is
+_not_ to palm off his stale cakes upon _you_, and that you will not keep
+them when sent. You will then find that fresh ones will generally be
+forthcoming. It is always well to send for cakes in the early part of
+the afternoon.
+
+Have a pitcher of ice-water on the side-table, and a tumbler beside
+every plate--as most persons like to finish with a glass of water.
+
+Do not, on sitting down to table, inform your guest that "you make no
+stranger of her," or that you fear she will not be able to "make out" at
+your plain table. These apologies are ungenteel and foolish. If your
+circumstances will not allow you _on any consideration_ to make a little
+improvement in your usual family-fare, your friend is, in all
+probability, aware of the fact, and will not wish or expect you to incur
+any inconvenient expense on her account. But if you are known to possess
+the means of living well, you ought to do so; and to consider a good,
+though not an extravagantly luxurious table as a necessary part of your
+expenditure. There is a vast difference between laudable economy and
+mean economy. The latter (whether it shows itself in bad food, bad
+fires, bad lights, bad servants) is never excused in persons who dress
+extravagantly, and live surrounded by costly furniture, and who are
+universally known to be wealthy, and fully able to afford comfort, as
+well as show.
+
+If you invite a friend to tea, in whose own family there is no
+gentlemen, or no man-servant, it is your duty previously to ascertain
+that you can provide her on that evening with an escort home; and in
+giving the invitation, you should tell her so, that she may know on what
+to depend. If you keep a carriage, it will be most kind to send her home
+in it.
+
+Even if it is your rule to have the entry-lamp extinguished at a certain
+hour, let your servants understand that this rule must be dispensed
+with, as long as an evening-visiter remains in the house. Also, do not
+have the linen covers put on the furniture, and the house audibly shut
+up for the night, before she has gone. To do this is rude, because she
+cannot but receive it as a hint that she has staid too long.
+
+If your visiter is obliged to go home with no other escort than your
+servant-man, apprize him, in time, that this duty will be expected of
+him; desiring that he takes care to be at hand before ten o'clock.
+
+A lady that has no escort whose services she can command, ought not to
+make unexpected tea-visits. In many cases these visits produce more
+inconvenience than pleasure. If you wish to "take tea sociably" with a
+friend, inform her previously of your intention. She will then let you
+know if she is disengaged on that evening, or if it is in any way
+inconvenient to receive you; and she will herself appoint another time.
+Generally, it is best not to volunteer a tea-visit, but to wait till
+invited.
+
+If you are engaged to take tea with an intimate friend, who assures you
+that you will see none but the family; and you afterward receive an
+invitation to join a party to a place of public amusement, which you
+have long been desirous of visiting, you may retract your first
+engagement, provided you send an apology in due time, telling the exact
+truth, and telling it in polite terms. Your intimate friend will then
+take no offence, considering it perfectly natural that you should prefer
+the concert, the play, or the exhibition, to a quiet evening passed at
+her house with no other guests. But take care to let her know as early
+as possible.[2] And be careful not to disappoint her again in a similar
+manner.
+
+If you are accustomed to taking coffee in the evening, and have an
+insuperable dislike to tea, it is best not to make an _unexpected_
+visit--or at least, if you go at all, go early--so as to allow ample
+time for the making of coffee--a much slower process than that of tea;
+particularly as there may chance to be no roasted coffee in the house.
+Much inconvenience has been caused by the "sociable visiting" of
+determined coffee-drinkers. It is very easy to make green or black tea
+at a short notice--but not coffee.
+
+In inviting "a few friends," which means a small select company,
+endeavour to assort them suitably, so as not to bring together people
+who have no community of tastes, feelings, and ideas. If you mix the
+dull and stupid with the bright and animated, the cold and formal with
+the frank and lively, the professedly serious with the gay and cheerful,
+the light with the heavy, and above all, those who pride themselves on
+high birth (high birth in America?) with those who boast of "belonging
+to the people," none of these "few friends" will enjoy each other's
+society; the evening will _not_ go off agreeably, and you and the other
+members of your family will have the worst of it. The pleasantest people
+in the room will naturally congregate together, and the task of
+entertaining the unentertainable will devolve on yourself and your own
+people.
+
+Still, it is difficult always to assort your company to your
+satisfaction and theirs. A very charming lady may have very dull or very
+silly sisters. An intelligent and refined daughter may be unfortunate in
+a coarse, ignorant mother, or a prosing, tiresome, purse-proud father.
+Some of the most delighted persons you may wish to invite, may be
+encumbered with relations totally incapable of adding any thing to the
+pleasure of the evening;--for instance, the numerous automatons, whom we
+must charitably believe are speechless merely from diffidence, and of
+whom we are told, that "if we only knew them," we should discover them,
+on intimate acquaintance, to be "quite intelligent people." Perhaps so.
+But we cannot help thinking that when a head is full of ideas, some of
+them will involuntarily ooze out and be manifest. Diffidence is very
+becoming to young people, and to those who are new to the world. But it
+is hardly credible that it should produce a painful taciturnity in
+persons who have passed from youth into maturity; and who have enjoyed
+the advantages of education and of living in good society. Still those
+who, as the French say, have "a great talent for silence," may redeem
+themselves from suspicion of stupidity, by listening attentively and
+understandingly. A good talker is never displeased with a good hearer.
+
+We have often met with young ladies from whom it was scarcely possible
+for one of their own sex to extract more than a few monosyllables at
+long intervals; those intervals being passed in dozing, rather than in
+hearing. And yet, if any thing in the shape of a beau presented itself,
+the tongues of these "dumb belles" were immediately loosened, and the
+wells of their minds commenced running as glibly as possible. To be
+sure, the talk amounted to nothing definite; but still they _did_ talk,
+and often became quite lively in a few minutes. Great is the power of
+beaux!
+
+To return to the tea-table.--Unless you are positively sure, when you
+have a visiter, that she drinks the same tea that is used in your own
+family, you should have both black and green on the table. Either sort
+is often extremely disagreeable to persons who take the other. Drinkers
+of green tea, for instance, have generally an unconquerable aversion to
+black, as tasting like hay, herbs, &c., and they find in it no
+refreshing or exhilarating property. In some, it produces nausea. Few,
+on the other hand, dislike the taste of _good_ green tea, but they
+assign as a reason for not drinking it, that it is supposed from its
+enlivening qualities to affect the nerves. Judge Bushrod Washington, who
+always drank green, and avoided black, said that, "he took tea as a
+beverage, not as a medicine." And there are a vast number of sensible
+people in the same category. If your guest is a votary of green tea,
+have it made for her, in time for the essence of the leaves to be well
+drawn forth. It is no compliment to give her green tea that is weak and
+washy. And do not, at your own table, be so rude as to lecture her upon
+the superior wholesomeness of black tea. For more than a century, green
+tea was universally drunk in every house, and there was then less talk
+of nervous diseases than during the reign of Souchong,--which,
+by-the-bye, is nearly exploded in the best European society.
+
+In pouring out, do not fill the cups to the brim. Always send the cream
+and sugar round, that each person may use those articles according to
+their own taste. Also, send round a small pot of hot water, that those
+who like their tea weak may conveniently dilute it. If tea is handed, a
+servant should, at the last, carry round a water-pitcher and glasses.
+
+Whether at dinner or tea, if yourself and family are in the habit of
+eating fast, (which, by the way, is a very bad and unwholesome one, and
+justly cited against us by our English cousins,) and you see that your
+visiter takes her food deliberately, endeavour (for that time at least)
+to check the rapidity of your own mastication, so as not to finish
+before she has done, and thus compel her to hurry herself uncomfortably,
+or be left alone while every one round her is sitting unoccupied and
+impatient. Or rather, let the family eat a little more than usual, or
+seem to do so, out of politeness to their guest.
+
+When refreshments are brought in after tea, let them be placed on the
+centre-table, and handed round from thence by the gentlemen to the
+ladies. If there are only four or five persons present, it may be more
+convenient for all to sit round the table--which should not be cleared
+till after all the visiters have gone, that the things may again be
+offered before the departure of the guests.
+
+If a friend makes an afternoon call, and you wish her to stay and take
+tea, invite her to do so at once, as soon as she has sat down; and do
+not wait till she has risen to depart. If she consents to stay, there
+will then be ample time to make any additional preparation for tea that
+may be expedient; and she will also know, at once, that you have no
+engagement for the evening, and that she is not intruding on your time,
+or preventing you from going out. If you are intimate friends, and your
+guest is disposed to have a long chat, she will do well to ask you, at
+the beginning, if you are disengaged, or design going out that
+afternoon.
+
+We knew a very sensible and agreeable lady in Philadelphia, who liking
+better to have company at home than to go out herself, made a rule of
+inviting every day, half a dozen friends (not more) to take tea with
+her--just as many as could sit round the table, "with ample room and
+verge enough." These friends she assorted judiciously. And therefore she
+never asked a whole family at once; those who were left out
+understanding that they would be invited another time. For instance, she
+would send a note for the father and mother only--to meet another father
+and mother or two. A few weeks after, a billet would come for the young
+people only. But if there were _several_ young people, some were
+delayed--thus--"I wish James and Eliza to take tea with me this evening,
+to meet so-and-so. Another time I promise myself the pleasure of
+Edward's company, and Mary's."
+
+This distribution of invitations never gave offence.
+
+Those who were honoured with the acquaintance of such a lady were not
+likely to be displeased at so sensible a mode of receiving them. These
+little tea-drinkings were always pleasant, and often delightful. The
+hostess was well qualified to make them so.
+
+Though the refreshments were of the best kind, and in sufficient
+abundance, and the fires, lights, &c. all as they should be, there was
+no ostentatious display, and the ladies were dressed no more than if
+they were spending a quiet evening at home--party-finery being
+interdicted--also, such needle-work as required constant attention to
+every stitch.
+
+If you have a friend who is in somewhat precarious health, and who is
+afraid of being out in the night air, or who lives in a distant part of
+the town, invite her to dinner, or to pass the day, rather than to tea.
+She will then be able to get home before twilight.
+
+There is in Boston a very fashionable and very distinguished lady, who,
+since her return from Europe, has relinquished the custom of giving
+large parties; and now entertains her friends by, almost every day,
+having two or three to dine with her,--by invitation. These dinners are
+charming. The hour is according to the season--earlier in winter, later
+in summer--the guests departing before dark, and the lady always having
+the evening to herself.
+
+We know a gentleman in Philadelphia, who every Monday has a family-dinner
+at his house, for all his children and grandchildren, who there meet and
+enjoy themselves before the eyes of the father and mother--a friend or
+two being also invited. Nothing can be more pleasant than to see them all
+there together, none staying away,--for parents, children, sons-in-law,
+daughters-in-law, sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, are all at peace, and
+all meeting in friendship--unhappily, a rare case, where there is a large
+connection, and considerable wealth.
+
+We wish that social intercourse was more frequently conducted on the
+plan of the few examples above cited.
+
+Should chance-visiters come in before the family have gone to tea, let
+them at once be invited to partake of that repast; which they will of
+course decline, if they have had tea already. In a well-provided house,
+there can be no difficulty in adding something to the family tea-table,
+which, in genteel life, should never be discreditably parsimonious.
+
+It is a very mean practice, for the members of the family to slip out of
+the parlour, one by one at a time, and steal away into the eating-room,
+to avoid inviting their visiter to accompany them. The truth is always
+suspected by these separate exits, and the length of absence from the
+parlour--and is frequently betrayed by the rattle of china, and the
+pervading fumes of hot cakes. How much better to meet the inconvenience
+(and it cannot be a great one) by decently conducting your accidental
+guest to the table, unless he says he has already taken tea, and will
+amuse himself with a book while the family are at theirs.
+
+Casual evening visiters should avoid staying too late. Ten o'clock, in
+our country, is the usual time to depart, or at least to begin
+departing. If the visit is unduly prolonged, there may be evident signs
+of irrepressible drowsiness in the heads of the family, which, when
+perceived, will annoy the guest, who must then feel that he has stayed
+too long--and without being able to excuse himself with any approach to
+the elegance of William Spencer's apology to the charming Lady Anne
+Hamilton.
+
+    Too late I stay'd--forgive the crime;
+      Unheeded flew the hours,
+    For noiseless falls the foot of Time
+      That only treads on flowers.
+    Ah! who with clear account remarks
+      The ebbing of the glass,
+    When all its sands are diamond sparks,
+      That dazzle as they pass!
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[2] Where the city-post is to be depended on, a note can always be sent
+in that way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE ENTRÉE.
+
+
+A lady is said to have the _entrée_ of her friend's room, when she is
+allowed or assumes the privilege of entering it familiarly at all times,
+and without any previous intimation--a privilege too often abused. In
+many cases, the visited person has never really granted this privilege,
+(and after growing wise by experience, she rarely will;) but the
+visiter, assuming that she herself must, under all circumstances, be
+welcome, carries her sociability so far as to become troublesome and
+inconvenient. Consequently, their friendship begins to abate in its
+warmth. No one likes to be annoyed, or be intruded on at all hours. So
+the visited begins to think of the adage, "My room is my castle," and
+the visiter finds that seeing a friend under all circumstances somewhat
+diminishes respect, and that "familiarity brings contempt."
+
+There are few occasions on which it is well, on entering a house, to run
+directly to the chamber of your friend, and to bolt into her room
+without knocking; or the very instant _after_ knocking, before she has
+time to desire you to enter, or to make the slightest arrangement for
+your reception. You may find her washing, or dressing, or in bed, or
+even engaged in repairing clothes,--or the room may be in great
+disorder, or the chambermaid in the act of cleaning it. No one likes
+unseasonable interruptions, even from a very dear friend. That friend
+would be dearer still, if she had sufficient tact and consideration to
+refrain from causing these annoyances. Also, friendships are not always
+lasting--particularly those that become inordinately violent, and where
+both parties, by their excessive intimacy, put themselves too much into
+each other's power. Very mortifying disclosures are sometimes made after
+a quarrel, between two Hermias and Helenas, when recrimination begins to
+come, and mutual enmity takes the place of mutual kindness.
+
+A familiar visit will always begin more pleasantly, if the visiter
+enquires of the servant at the door if the lady she wishes to see is at
+home, and then goes into the parlour, and stays there till she has sent
+her name, and ascertained that she can be received up-stairs.[3] Then
+(and not till then) let her go to her friend's room, and still remember
+to knock at the door before she enters. Let her have patience till her
+friend bids her come in, or has time to rise, cross the room, and come
+to open the door, if it is fastened.
+
+It is extremely rude, on being admitted to a private apartment, to look
+curiously about, as if taking an inventory of all that is to be seen. We
+have known ladies whose eyes were all the time gazing round, and even
+slily peering under tables, sofas, &c.; turning their heads to look
+after every person who chanced to be moving about the room, and giving
+particular attention to whatever seemed to be in disorder or out of
+place. Nay, we have known one who prided herself upon the gentility of
+her forefathers and foremothers, rise from her seat when her hostess
+opened a bureau-drawer, or a closet-door, and cross the room, to stand
+by and inspect the contents of said bureau or closet, while open--a
+practice very common with ill-taught _children_, but which certainly
+should be rebuked out of them long before they are grown up.
+
+Make no remark upon the work in which you find your friend engaged. If
+she lays it aside, desire her not to quit it because of your presence;
+but propound no questions concerning it. Do not look over her books, and
+ask to borrow them. In short, meddle with nothing.
+
+Some ladies never enter the room of an intimate friend without
+immediately exclaiming against its heat or its cold--seldom the latter,
+but very frequently the former, as it is rather fashionable to be always
+too warm; perhaps because it makes them seem younger. If they really are
+uncomfortably warm on a very cold day, we think it can only be from the
+glow produced by the exercise of walking. This glow must naturally
+subside in a few minutes, if they would sit down and wait with a little
+patience, or else avail themselves of the fan which ought to be at hand
+in every room. We have known ladies of this warm temperament, who had
+sufficient consideration always to carry a pocket-fan in winter as well
+as summer. This is far better than to break out instantly with a
+complaint of the heat of the room, or to run and throw up a window-sash,
+or fling open the door, at the risk of giving cold to others. No
+intimacy can authorize these freedoms in a cold day, unless permission
+has first been asked, and sincerely granted.
+
+If you are perfectly certain that you have really the entrée of your
+friend's room, and even if she has the same of yours, you have no right
+ever to extend that privilege to any other person who may chance to be
+with you when you go to see her. It is taking an unjustifiable liberty
+to intrude a stranger upon the privacy of her chamber. If another lady
+is with you, waive your privilege of entrée for that time, take your
+companion into the parlour, and send up the names of both, and do not
+say, "Oh! come up, come up--I am on no ceremony with her, and I am sure
+she will not _mind you_." And how can you be sure? Perhaps in reality,
+she _will_ mind her very much, and be greatly discomfited, though too
+polite to appear so.
+
+There are certain unoccupied females so over-friendly as to take the
+entrée of the whole house. These are, generally, ultra-neighbourly
+neighbours, who run in at all hours of the day and evening; ferret out
+the ladies of the family, wherever they may be--up-stairs or down; watch
+all their proceedings when engaged, like good housewives, in inspecting
+the attics, the store-rooms, the cellars, or the kitchens. Never for a
+moment do they seem to suppose that their hourly visits may perhaps be
+inconvenient or unseasonable; or too selfish to abate their frequency,
+even when they suspect them to be so, these inveterate sociablists make
+their incursions at all avenues. If they find that the front-door is
+kept locked, they glide down the area-steps, and get in through the
+basement. Or else, they discover some back-entrance, by which they can
+slip in at "the postern-gate"--that is, alley-wise:--sociablists are not
+proud. At first, the sociablist will say, on making her third or fourth
+appearance for the day, "Who comes to see you oftener than I?" But after
+awhile even this faint shadow of an apology is omitted--or changed to
+"Nobody minds _me_." She is quite domesticated in your house--an
+absolute _habitué_. She sees all, hears all, knows all your concerns. Of
+course she does. Her talk _to_ you is chiefly gossip, and therefore her
+talk _about_ you is chiefly the same. She is _au-fait_ of every thing
+concerning your table, for after she has had her dinner at her own home,
+she comes bolting into your dining-room and "sits by," and sees you eat
+yours. It is well if she does not begin with "a look in" upon you before
+breakfast. She finds out everybody that comes to your house; knows all
+your plans for going to this place or that; is well acquainted with
+every article that you wear; is present at the visits of all your
+friends, and hears all their conversation. Her own is usually "an
+infinite deal of nothing."
+
+A sociablist is commonly what is called good-natured, or else you would
+not endure her at all--and you believe, for a time, that she really has
+an extraordinary liking for you. After awhile, you are undeceived. A
+coolness ensues, if not a quarrel, and you are glad to find that she
+carries her sociability to another market, and that a new friend is now
+suffering all that you have experienced. To avoid the danger of being
+overwhelmed by the sociability of an idle neighbour, discourage the
+first indications of undue intimacy, by making your own visits rather
+few, and rather far between. A young lady of good sense, and of proper
+self-respect, will never be too lavish of her society; and if she has
+pleasant neighbours, will visit them always in moderation. And their
+friendship will last the longer.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[3] If the visiter has been properly announced, a well-trained servant
+will, in all probability, run up before her, and open the room-door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+INTRODUCTIONS.
+
+
+Fashion, in its various unmeaning freaks, sometimes decrees that it is
+not "stylish to introduce strangers." But this is a whim that, whenever
+attempted, has neither become general nor lasted long. It has seldom
+been adopted by persons of good sense and good manners--and very rarely
+by that fortunate class whose elevated standing in society enables them
+to act as they please, in throwing aside the fetters of absurd
+conventionalities, and who can afford to do so.
+
+Non-introduction has been found, in many instances, to produce both
+inconvenience and vexation. Persons who had long known each other by
+reputation, and who would have rejoiced in an opportunity of becoming
+personally acquainted, have met in society, without being aware of it
+till afterward; and the opportunity has never recurred. One of our most
+distinguished literary Americans was seated at a dinner-party next to an
+European lady equally distinguished in literature; but as there were no
+introductions, he was not aware of her presence till the party was over
+and the lady gone. The lady knew who the gentleman was, and would gladly
+have conversed with him; but as he did not speak, because he was not
+introduced, she had not courage to commence--though she might have done
+so with perfect propriety, considering who _he_ was, and who _she_ was.
+
+Still worse--from not knowing who are present, you may inadvertently
+fall upon a subject of conversation that, for private reasons, may be
+extremely irksome or painful to some of the company; for instance, in
+discussing a public character. Severe or mortifying remarks may
+unintentionally be made on the near relative, or on the intimate
+companion, of one whom you would on no account desire to offend. And in
+this way you may make enemies, where, under other circumstances, you
+would have made friends. In such cases, it is the duty of the hostess,
+or of any mutual acquaintance, immediately to introduce both parties,
+and thus prevent any further animadversions that, may be _mal-a-propos_,
+or in any way annoying. It is safest, when among strangers, to refrain
+from bitter animadversions on anybody.
+
+In introducing a gentleman to a lady, address _her_ first, as for
+instance--"Miss Smith, permit me to make you acquainted with Mr.
+Jones"--or, "Mrs. Farley, allow me to present Mr. Wilson"--that is, you
+must introduce the gentleman to the lady, rather than the lady to the
+gentleman. Also, if one lady is married and the other single, present
+the single lady to the matron, as--"Miss Thomson, let me introduce you
+to Mrs. Williams."[4]
+
+In introducing a foreigner, it is proper to present him as "Mr. Howard
+from England"--"Mr. Dupont from France"--"Mr. Wenzel from Germany." If
+you know of what European city he is a resident, it is better still, to
+say that he is "from London,"--"Paris,"--"Hamburg." Likewise, in
+introducing one of your own countrymen very recently returned from a
+distant part of the world, make him known as "Mr. Davis, just from
+China"--"Mr. Edwards, lately from Spain"--"Mr. Gordon, recently from
+South America." These slight specifications are easily made; and they
+afford, at once, an opening for conversation between the two strangers,
+as it will be perfectly natural to ask "the late arrived" something
+about the country he has last visited, or at least about his voyage.
+
+When presenting a member of Congress, mention the State to which he
+belongs, as, "Mr. Hunter of Virginia"--"Mr. Chase of Ohio," &c.
+Recollect that both senators and gentlemen of the house of
+representatives are members of Congress--Congress including the two
+legislative bodies. In introducing a governor, designate the state he
+governs--as, "Governor Penington of New Jersey." For the chief
+magistrate of the republic, say simply--"The President."
+
+In introducing an officer, tell always to which service he belongs--as
+"Captain Turner of the Navy"--"Captain Anderson of the Army."
+
+We regret the custom of continuing to give military titles to militia
+officers. Foreigners are justly diverted at finding _soi-disant_
+generals and colonels among men who fill very subordinate stations in
+civil life--men that, however respectable in their characters, may be
+deficient in the appearance, manners, or education that should belong to
+a regular officer. This foolish practice can only be done away by the
+militia officers themselves (those that really are gentlemen--and there
+are many) magnanimously declining to be called generals, colonels, &c.
+except on parade occasions; and when actually engaged in militia duty.
+Let them omit these titles on their cards, and request that no letters
+be directed to them with such superscriptions; and that in introductions
+or in conversation they may be only addressed as plain Mr. It is still
+more absurd to continue these military titles long after they have
+ceased to hold the office,--and above all, to persist in them when
+travelling in foreign countries, tacitly permitting it to be supposed
+that they own commissions in the regular service.
+
+English tourists (even when they know better) make this practice a
+handle for pretending, in their books, that the officers of the American
+army are so badly paid, or so eager to make additional money, that they
+exercise all sorts of trades, and engage in the humblest occupations to
+help themselves along. They tell of seeing a captain stitching coats, a
+major making shoes, a colonel driving a stage, and a general selling
+butter in market--sneeringly representing them as regular officers of
+the United States army. Is it true that we republicans have such a
+hankering after titles? If so, "reform it altogether." And let one of
+the first steps be to omit the "Esq." in directing a letter to an
+American citizen, for whom the title can have no meaning. In England it
+signifies the possessor of an estate in the country, including the
+office of justice of peace. In America, it means a magistrate only; who
+may live in a city, and own not an inch of ground anywhere. But why
+should all manner of men, of all trades, and professions, expect to see
+an "Esq." after their name, when with reference to _them_, it can have
+no rational application?
+
+An introduction should always be given in a distinct and audible voice,
+so that the name may be clearly understood. The purpose is defeated, if
+it is murmured over in so low a tone as to be unintelligible. And yet
+how often is this the case; for what reason it is difficult to divine.
+It is usual for the introducee to repeat the name of the introduced.
+This will prove that it has really been heard. For instance, if Mrs.
+Smith presents Miss Brook to Miss Miles, Miss Miles immediately says,
+"Miss Brook"--or better still--"Miss Brook, I am glad to meet you," or
+something similar. Miss Miles then begins a talk.
+
+If you introduce yourself to a lady whom you wish to know, but who does
+not know _you_, address her by her name, express your desire to make her
+acquaintance, and then give her your card. Replying that it affords her
+pleasure to meet you, she will give you her hand, and commence a
+conversation, so as to put you quite at ease after your
+self-introduction.
+
+In introducing members of your own family, always mention, audibly, the
+name. It is not sufficient to say "my father," or "my mother"--"my son,"
+"my daughter"--"my brother," or "my sister." There may be more than one
+surname in the same family. But say, "my father, Mr. Warton,"--"my
+daughter, Miss Wood"--or "my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Wood"--"my sister,
+Miss Mary Ramsay"--"my brother, Mr. James Ramsay," &c. It is best in all
+these things to be explicit. The eldest daughter is usually introduced
+by her surname only--as "Miss Bradford"--her younger sisters, as "Miss
+Maria Bradford"--"Miss Harriet Bradford."
+
+In presenting a clergyman, put the word "Reverend" before his
+name--unless he is a bishop, and then, of course, the word "Bishop"
+suffices. The head of a college-department introduce as "Professor"--and
+it is to them only that the title properly belongs, though arrogated by
+all sorts of public exhibitors, mesmerists and jugglers included.
+
+Where the company is large, the ladies of the house should have tact
+enough to avoid introducing and placing together persons who cannot
+possibly assimilate, or take pleasure in each other's society. The dull,
+and the silly, will be far happier with their compeers. To a woman of
+talent, and a good conversationist, it is a cruelty to put her
+unnecessarily in contact with stupid, or unmeaning people. She is wasted
+and thrown away upon such as are neither amusing nor amusable. Neither
+is it well to bring together a gay, lively woman of the world, and a
+solemn, serious, repulsive dame, who is a contemner of the world and all
+its enjoyments. There can be no conversation that is mutually agreeable,
+between a real lady of true delicacy and refinement, and a so-called
+lady whose behaviour and talk are coarse and vulgar,--or between a woman
+of highly cultivated mind, and one who is grossly ignorant of every
+thing connected with books, and who boasts of that ignorance. We have
+heard a lady of fashion say, "Thank God, I never read." The answer might
+well have been, "You need not tell us that."
+
+In inviting but a small company, it is indispensable to the pleasure of
+all, that you ask none who are strikingly unsuitable to the rest--or
+whose presence will throw a damp on conversation. Especially avoid
+bringing into the same room, persons who are at notorious enmity with
+each other, even if, unhappily, they should be members of the same
+family. Those who are known as adversaries should be invited on
+different evenings.
+
+Avoid giving invitations to bores. They will come without.
+
+The word "bore" has an unpleasant and an inelegant sound. Still, we have
+not, as yet, found any substitute that so well expresses the
+meaning,--which, we opine, is a dull, tiresome man, or "a weariful
+woman," either inveterately silent, or inordinately talkative, but never
+saying any thing worth hearing, or worth remembering--people whom you
+receive unwillingly, and whom you take leave of with joy; and who, not
+having perception enough to know that their visits are always unwelcome,
+are the most sociable visiters imaginable, and the longest stayers.
+
+In a conversation at Abbotsford, there chanced to be something said in
+reference to bores--those beings in whom "man delights not, nor woman
+neither." Sir Walter Scott asserted, humourously, that bores were always
+"good respectable people." "Otherwise," said he "there could be no
+bores. For if they were also scoundrels or brutes, we would keep no
+measures with them, but at once kick them out the house, and shut the
+door in their faces."
+
+When you wish an introduction to a stranger lady, apply to your hostess,
+or to some of the family, or to one of the guests that is acquainted
+with that lady: you will then be led up and presented to her. Do not
+expect the stranger to be brought to you; it is your place to go to her.
+
+If you are requested by a female friend to introduce her to a
+distinguished gentleman, a public character, be not so ungenerous as to
+go _immediately_ and conspicuously to inform him of the fact. But spare
+her delicacy, by deferring the ceremony for a while; and then take an
+opportunity of saying to him, "I shall be glad to make you acquainted
+with my friend Miss Morris. Come with me, and I will introduce you."
+When the introduction has thus taken place, you may with propriety leave
+them together to entertain each other for awhile; particularly if both
+parties are capable of doing so. And then, after a quarter of an hour's
+conversation, let the lady release the gentleman from further
+attendance, by bowing to him, and turning to some other acquaintance who
+may not be far off. She can leave _him_ much more easily than he can
+leave _her_, and it will be better to do so in proper time, than to
+detain him too long. It is generally in his power to return to her
+before the close of the evening, and if he is pleased with her society,
+he will probably make an opportunity of doing so.
+
+If he is what is called a lion, consideration for the rest of the
+company should admonish her not to monopolize him. But lions usually
+know how to get away adroitly. By-the-bye, she must not talk to him of
+his professional celebrity, or ask him at once for his autograph.
+
+We saw no less a person than Charles Dickens compelled, at a large
+party, to devote the whole evening to writing autographs for a multitude
+of young ladies--many of whom, not satisfied with obtaining one of his
+signatures for themselves, desired half a dozen others for "absent
+friends." All conversation ceased with the first requisition for an
+autograph. He had no chance of saying any thing. We were a little
+ashamed of our fair townswomen.
+
+Should it fall to your lot to introduce any of the English nobility,
+take care (before hand) to inform yourself exactly what their titles
+really are. Americans are liable to make sad blunders in these things.
+It may be well to know that a duke is the highest title of British
+nobility, and that his wife is a duchess. His eldest son is a marquis as
+long as his father lives, on whose demise the marquis becomes a duke.
+The wife of a marquis is a marchioness. There are a few marquises whose
+fathers were not dukes. The younger sons are termed Lord Henry, Lord
+Charles, Lord John, &c. The daughters Lady Caroline, Lady Augusta, Lady
+Julia. The family name is generally quite different from the title.
+Thus, the name of the Duke of Richmond is Lenox--that of the Duke of
+Rutland, Manners. The family name of the Duke of Norfolk (who ranks
+first of the English nobility) is Howard. The present Duke of
+Northumberland's name is Algernon Percy. Arthur Wellesley was that of
+the great Duke of Wellington. His eldest son was Marquis of Douro, and
+his second son Lord Charles Wellesley. The children of a marquis are
+called Lord Frederick, or Lord Henry, and Lady Louisa, or Lady Harriet.
+
+The next title is viscount, as Viscount Palmerston. The next is earl,
+whose wife is a countess, and the children may be Lord Georges and Lady
+Marys.
+
+After the viscounts come the barons, whose children are denominated the
+Honourable Miss, or Mr. John Singleton Copley, (whose father was Copley,
+the celebrated American painter,) is now Baron Lyndhurst. His eldest
+daughter is the Hon. Miss Copley. In common parlance, barons are always
+termed lords. Some few have two titles--as Lord Say and Sele--Lord
+Brougham and Vaux. After William the Fourth had suddenly dissolved the
+parliament that held out so long against passing the reform bill, and
+the king, appointing a new cabinet, had placed Lord Brougham at the head
+of the ministry, a ridiculous comic song came out at one of the minor
+theatres, implying that now his majesty has swept out the whole
+parliament, "he takes up his broom and valks," (Brougham and Vaux.)
+
+When the widow of a nobleman marries a man who has no title, she always
+retains hers. Thus when the widow of the Earl of Mansfield married
+Colonel Greville, (a nephew of the Earl of Warwick,)--on their
+door-plate the names were--"The Countess Dowager of Mansfield, and the
+Hon. Colonel Greville,"--a rather long inscription. A nobleman's
+daughter marrying a commoner, retains her original title of Lady, but
+takes his surname--thus, Lady Charlotte Campbell, whose father was Duke
+of Argyle, became, on her marriage with Dr. Bury, a clergyman, Lady
+Charlotte Bury. It will be understood that if a nobleman's daughter
+marries a nobleman, her title merges in his--but if she marries a
+commoner, she retains what title she had originally--her husband, of
+course, obtaining no rank by his marriage.
+
+The title of a baronet is Sir--as Sir Francis Burdett, Sir Walter Scott.
+His children are Mr. and Miss, without any "Hon." affixed to their
+names. Baronets are a grade below barons, but the title is hereditary,
+descending to the eldest son or next male heir. In directing to a
+baronet, put "Bart." after his name. A knight is also called Sir, as Sir
+Thomas Lawrence, Sir Edwin Landseer, &c.; but his title being only for
+life, dies with him.[5] It is always conferred by the sovereign touching
+his shoulder with a sword, and saying, for instance, "Rise up, Sir
+Francis Chantry." In writing to a knight, put "Knt." The wives of both
+baronets and knights are called Lady. The wife of Sir John Franklin (who
+was knighted) is Lady Franklin--not Lady _Jane_ Franklin, as has been
+erroneously supposed. She could not be Lady Jane unless her father was a
+nobleman.
+
+A nobleman always signs his title only, without designating his exact
+rank--the Duke of Athol signing himself "Athol"--the Duke of Bedford,
+"Bedford"--the Marquis of Granby, "Granby"--the Earl of Chesterfield,
+"Chesterfield," &c. The wives of peers give their Christian name with
+their title--as Isabella Buccleuch--Margaret Northampton--Elizabeth
+Derby, &c.
+
+The English bishops are addressed in letters as the Lord Bishop of
+Rochester, the Lord Bishop of Bath and Wells. The Archbishop of
+Canterbury, who is Primate of England,--(Head of the English Church,) is
+called His Grace, or Your Grace. The bishops are all (by virtue of their
+office) members of the House of Peers or Lords. They sign their
+Christian name with the title of their bishopric, as John
+Durham--William Oxford.
+
+All full noblemen have an hereditary seat in the House of Peers, which
+they take on attaining the age of twenty-one, and it continues while
+they live. Their younger sons, the Lord Johns and Lord Fredericks, can
+only have a seat in the House of Commons, and to that they must be
+elected, like the other members. Baronets, not being peers, must also be
+elected as commons.
+
+Americans going to England would do well to look over a book of the
+British Peerage, so as to save themselves from making blunders, which
+are much ridiculed in a country where little allowance is made for
+republican habits and for republican ignorance of what appertains to
+monarchical institutions.[6] It would not be amiss even to know that a
+full coat of arms, including shield, supporters, crest, and scroll with
+a motto, belongs only to the chief of a noble family; and that the
+younger branches are entitled only to the crest, which is the head of
+the same animal that stands erect on each side of the shield as if to
+support it, such as stags, foxes, bears, vultures, &c. A baronet has a
+shield only, with a bloody or wounded hand over the top.
+
+Our countrymen abroad sometimes excite ill-concealed mirth, by the
+lavish use they make of titles when they chance to find themselves among
+the nobility. They should learn that none but servants or people of the
+lower classes make constant use of the terms "my lord," and "my
+lady"--"your lordship," or "your ladyship"--"your grace," &c., in
+conversing with persons of rank. Formerly it was the custom, but it is
+long since obsolete, except, as we have said, from domestics or
+dependants. Address them simply as Lord Derby, or Lord Dunmore--Lady
+Wilton, Lady Mornington, &c.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[4] It is well to present a lady or gentleman from another city, as
+"Miss Ford of New York"--"Mrs. Stephens of Boston"--"Mr. Warren of New
+Orleans."
+
+[5] Distinguished men of all professions, doctors, lawyers, artists,
+authors, and officers of the army and navy, frequently receive the
+honour of knighthood.
+
+[6] It would be well if all the public offices at Washington were
+furnished with copies of the British Peerage. Perhaps they are.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+CONDUCT IN THE STREET.
+
+
+When three ladies are walking together, it is better for one to keep a
+little in advance of the other two, than for all three to persist in
+maintaining one unbroken line. They cannot all join in conversation
+without talking across each other--a thing that, in-doors or
+out-of-doors, is awkward, inconvenient, ungenteel, and should always be
+avoided. Also, three ladies walking abreast occupy too much of the
+pavement, and therefore incommode the other passengers. Three young
+_men_ sometimes lounge along the pavement, arm in arm. Three young
+_gentlemen_ never do so.
+
+If you meet a lady with whom you have become but slightly acquainted,
+and had merely a little conversation, (for instance, at a party or a
+morning visit,) and who moves in a circle somewhat higher or more
+fashionable than your own, it is safest to wait till she recognises you.
+Let her not see in you a disposition to obtrude yourself on her notice.
+
+It is not expected that all intimacies formed at watering-places shall
+continue after the parties have returned to their homes. A mutual bow
+when meeting in the street is sufficient. But there is no interchanging
+of visits, unless both ladies have, before parting, testified a desire
+to continue the acquaintance. In this case, the lady who is eldest, or
+palpably highest in station, makes the first call. It is not customary
+for a young lady to make the first visit to a married lady.
+
+When meeting them in the street, always speak first to your milliner,
+mantua-maker, seamstress, or to any one you have been in the practice of
+employing. To pass without notice any servant that you know, is rude and
+unfeeling, as they will attribute it to pride, not presuming to speak to
+you themselves, unless in reply. There are persons who having accepted,
+when in the country, much kindness from the country-people, are ashamed
+to recognise them when they come to town, on account of their rustic or
+unfashionable dress. This is a very vulgar, contemptible, and foolish
+pride; and is always seen through, and despised. There is no danger of
+plain country-people being mistaken for vulgar city-people. In our
+country, there is no reason for keeping aloof from any who are
+respectable in character and appearance. Those to be avoided are such as
+wear tawdry finery, paint their faces, and leer out of the corners of
+their eyes, _looking_ disreputably, even if they are not disreputable
+in reality.
+
+When a gentleman meets a lady with whom his acquaintance is very slight,
+(perhaps nothing more than a few words of talk at a party,) he allows
+her the option of continuing the acquaintance or not, at her pleasure;
+therefore, he waits till she recognises him, and till she evinces it by
+a bow,--he looking at her to give the opportunity. Thus, if she has no
+objection to numbering him among her acquaintances, she denotes it by
+bowing first. American ladies never curtsey in the street. If she has
+any reason to disapprove of his character or habits, she is perfectly
+justifiable in "cutting" him, as it is termed. Let her bow very coldly
+the first time, and after that, not at all.
+
+Young ladies should yield the wall to old ladies. Gentlemen do so to all
+ladies.
+
+In some cities it is the custom for all gentlemen to give their arm to
+all ladies, when walking with them. In others, a gentleman's arm is
+neither offered nor taken, unless in the evening, on slippery pavements,
+or when the streets are very muddy. A lady only takes the arm of her
+husband, her affianced lover, or of her male relatives. In the country
+the custom is different. There, a gentleman, when walking with a lady,
+always gives her his arm; and is much offended when, on offering his
+arm, the lady refuses to take it. Still, if it is contrary to the custom
+of her place, she can explain it to him delicately, and he will at once
+see the propriety of her declining.
+
+When a lady is walking between two gentlemen, she should divide her
+conversation as equally as practicable, or address most of it to him who
+is most of a stranger to her. He, with whom she is least on ceremony,
+will excuse her.
+
+A gentleman on escorting a lady to her own home, must not leave her till
+he has rung the bell, and waited till the servant has come and opened
+the door, and till she is actually in the house. Men who know no better,
+think it sufficient to walk with her to the foot of the steps and there
+take their departure, leaving her to get in as she can. This we have
+seen--but not often, and the offenders were not Americans.
+
+If you stop a few minutes in the street to talk to an acquaintance, draw
+to one side of the pavement near the wall, so as not to impede the
+passengers--or you may turn and walk with her as far as the next corner.
+And never stop to talk in the middle of a crossing. To speak loudly in
+the street is exceedingly ungenteel, and foolish, as what you say will
+be heard by all who pass by. To call across the way to an acquaintance,
+is very unlady-like. It is best to hasten over, and speak to her, if you
+have any thing of importance to say.
+
+When a stranger offers to assist you across a brimming gutter, or over a
+puddle, or a glair of slippery ice, do not hesitate, or decline, as if
+you thought he was taking an unwarrantable liberty. He means nothing but
+civility. So accept it frankly, and thank him for it.
+
+When you see persons slip down on the ice, do not laugh at them. There
+is no fun in being hurt, or in being mortified by a fall in the public
+street; and we know not how a _lady_ can see any thing diverting in so
+painful a circumstance. It is more feminine, on witnessing such a sight,
+to utter an involuntary scream than a shout of laughter. And still more
+so, to stop and ascertain if the person that fell has been hurt.
+
+If, on stopping an omnibus, you find that a dozen people are already
+seated in it, draw back, and refuse to add to the number; giving no heed
+to the assertion of the driver, that "there is plenty of room." The
+_passengers_ will not say so, and you have no right to crowd them all,
+even if you are willing to be crowded yourself--a thing that is
+extremely uncomfortable, and very injurious to your dress, which may, in
+consequence, be so squeezed and rumpled as never to look well again.
+None of the omnibuses are large enough to accommodate even twelve grown
+people _comfortably_; and that number is the utmost the law permits. A
+child occupies more than half the space of a grown person, yet children
+are brought into omnibuses _ad libitum_. Ten grown persons are as many
+as can be really well seated in an omnibus--twelve are too many; and a
+_lady_ will always regret making the thirteenth--and her want of
+consideration in doing so will cause her to be regarded with
+unfavourable eyes by the other passengers. It is better for her to go
+into a shop, and wait for the next omnibus, or even to walk home, unless
+it is actually raining.
+
+Have your sixpence ready in your fingers a few minutes before you are to
+get out; and you may request any gentleman near you to hand it up to
+the driver. So many accidents have happened from the driver setting off
+before a lady was entirely out of the vehicle and safely landed in the
+street, that it is well to desire the gentleman not to hand up the
+sixpence till after you are fairly clear of the steps.
+
+When expecting to ride in an omnibus, take care to have sufficient small
+change in your purse--that is, sixpences. We have seen, when a
+quarter-dollar has been handed up, and the driver was handing down the
+change, that it has fallen, and been scattered among the straw. There
+was no stopping to search for it, and therefore the ride cost
+twenty-five cents instead of six: the driver, of course, finding the
+change himself, as soon as he got rid of all his passengers.
+
+It is most imprudent to ride in an omnibus with much money in your
+purse. Pickpockets of genteel appearance are too frequently among the
+passengers. We know a gentleman who in this way lost a pocket-book
+containing eighty dollars; and various ladies have had their purses
+taken from them, by well-dressed passengers. If you are obliged to have
+money of any consequence about you, keep your hand all the time in that
+pocket.
+
+If the driver allows a drunken man to come into an omnibus, the ladies
+will find it best to get out; at least those whose seats are near his.
+It is, however, the duty of the gentlemen to insist on such fellows
+being refused admittance where there are ladies.
+
+No lady should venture to ride in an omnibus after dark, unless she is
+escorted by a gentleman whom she knows. She had better walk home, even
+under the protection of a servant. If alone in an omnibus at night, she
+is liable to meet with improper company, and perhaps be insulted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+SHOPPING.
+
+
+When you go out shopping, it is well to take with you some _written_
+cards, inscribed with your residence as well as your name. For this
+purpose to use engraved visiting-cards is an unnecessary expense. That
+there may be no mistake, let your shopping-cards contain not only your
+street and number, but the side of the way, and between what streets
+your house is situated. This minuteness is particularly useful in
+Philadelphia, where the plan and aspect of the streets is so similar.
+Much inconvenience, disappointment, and delay have resulted from parcels
+being left at wrong places. If you are staying at a hotel, give also the
+number of your chamber, otherwise the package may be carried in mistake
+to the apartment of some other lady; the servants always knowing the
+number of the rooms, but not always remembering the names of the
+occupants; usually speaking of the ladies and gentlemen as No. 25, No.
+42, &c.
+
+There is another advantage in having cards with you when you go out
+shopping: if you should chance to forget your reticule, or
+handkerchief, and leave it on the counter, the shopkeeper will know
+exactly by the card where to send it, or for whom to keep it till called
+for.
+
+If you intend to purchase none but small articles, take but little money
+in your purse, so that if you chance to lose it, the loss may not be
+great.[7] When you buy articles of any consequence, they will always be
+sent home at your request--and (unless you keep a standing account at
+that store) desire the bill to be sent along; and sent at an hour when
+you will certainly be at hand to pay it. Be careful to take receipts for
+the payment; and keep the receipts on a file or wire. We have known
+instances when, from the clerk or storekeeper neglecting or delaying to
+cross out an account as soon as paid, the same bill was inadvertently
+sent twice over; and then by having the receipt to show, the necessity
+of _paying it twice over_ was obviated. Look carefully at every item of
+the bill, and see that all is correct. Sometimes (though these
+oversights are of rare occurrence) the same article may accidentally be
+set down twice in the same bill. But this is easily rectified by taking
+the bill to the storekeeper, and showing it to him.
+
+In subscribing for a magazine or newspaper, and paying in advance, (as
+you always should,) be especially careful of the receipts given to you
+at paying. So many persons are in the habit of allowing these accounts
+to run on for years, that if you neglect preserving your receipts, and
+cannot produce them afterward, you may be unintentionally classed among
+the delinquents, and have no means of proving satisfactorily that you
+have really paid.
+
+Many ladies keep a day-book, in which they set down, regularly, all the
+money they have expended on that day; adding up the whole every week. An
+excellent plan, and of great importance to every one who is mistress of
+a family.
+
+In making purchases for other persons, have bills made out; and send the
+bills (receipted) with the articles purchased, as an evidence of the
+exact price of the things, and that they were paid for punctually. The
+friends that have commissioned you to buy them, should _immediately_
+repay you. Much inconvenience may be felt by a lady whose command of
+money is small, when a friend living in a distant place, and probably in
+opulent circumstances, neglects or postpones the payment of these sums.
+She should, at the beginning, send money amply sufficient to make these
+purchases. It is enough that you take the trouble of going to the
+stores, selecting the desired articles, and having them packed and sent
+off. She has no right to put you to the slightest pecuniary
+inconvenience. There have been instances, where articles thus bought for
+a lady in a far-off place, have not been paid for by that lady till
+after the lapse of many months. For such remissness there is no excuse.
+To go shopping for a friend is rarely a pleasant business. Besides its
+encroaching on your time, there is always a danger of the purchases
+proving unsatisfactory, or not suiting the taste of her for whom they
+are intended. Also, circumstances may prevent the articles reaching her
+as soon as expected. Whenever practicable, it is best to send all such
+packages by the Transportation Line--that charge to be paid by the
+owner, on delivery.
+
+It is not well to trouble a gentleman with the care of a parcel, unless
+it is quite small, and he has to pass the door of the house at which it
+is to be delivered; or unless his residence is in the immediate
+neighbourhood.
+
+When visiting the shops, if you do not intend to buy at that time, but
+are merely looking round to see varieties of articles before you
+determine on what to purchase, candidly say so to the persons standing
+at the counter. They will (particularly if they know you) be perfectly
+willing to show you such things as you desire to see, in the hope that
+you may return to their store and buy of them afterward. At the same
+time, avoid giving unnecessary trouble; and do not, from mere curiosity,
+desire such things to be brought to you as you have no intention of
+buying at all.
+
+The practice that is called cheapening, or beating down the price, is
+now nearly obsolete. Most tradesmen have a fixed price for every thing,
+and will not abate.
+
+It is but rarely that you will meet with articles of really good quality
+on very low terms, unless near the close of the season, when the
+storekeepers, anxious to get rid of their old stock, generally put down
+the prices of the goods that are left on hand; knowing that by the
+return of next season, these will be superseded by things of a newer
+fashion. Economical ladies, who are not resolutely determined on wearing
+none but articles of the very latest fashion, may thus supply themselves
+with excellent silks, lawns, &c. in August and September, at prices far
+below what they would have given in May or June. And then they can lay
+them by till next summer. In the same way they can purchase merinoes,
+mousselines de laine, &c. in January, February, and March, much lower
+than in November and December. It is best always to buy rather too much
+than too little; and to have a piece left, rather than to get a scanty
+pattern, such as will barely hold out, leaving nothing for repairs or
+alterations. There is much advantage in getting an extra yard and a
+half, or two yards, and keeping it back for new sleeves. Unless you are
+small and slender, it is not well to buy a dress embroidered with a
+border pattern. They are always scanty in width, and have that look when
+made up. The skirts are never quite wide enough. A tall woman requires
+as full a skirt as a fat one; else her height will make her look lanky
+and narrow.
+
+When bespeaking an article to be made purposely for you, ascertain from
+the maker what will be the cost, and then request him to write down the
+terms on a card, or a slip of paper, or on a leaf of your tablet. If he
+says he cannot tell how much it will be, or that he knows not what price
+to fix on it, or that he cannot decide till after it is finished, it
+will be safest and wisest for you to decline engaging it, till he _has_
+calculated the amount, or something very near it. Persist in this
+condition being a _sine qua non_. It is his place to know every thing
+connected with his business, and to be able to judge of his outlay, and
+his profits. If you do not insist on a satisfactory answer when making
+the bargain, you may in the end find yourself greatly overcharged, (as
+we know by experience;) the price in the bill, after the article is
+made, and sent home, proving infinitely higher than you would have been
+willing to give if previously aware of it. In dealing with foreigners
+whose language is not yours, take especial care that there is a correct
+understanding on both sides.
+
+When on a visit to a city with which you are not familiar, enquire where
+the best shops are to be found, and make memorandums of them in your
+tablets. This will spare your friends the trouble of accompanying you on
+your shopping expeditions. And if you have a small pocket-map of the
+town, there will be no danger of losing your way. Except to ladies whose
+chief delight is in seeing things connected with dress, to go shopping
+with a stranger is usually very tiresome. Also, the stranger will feel
+less constraint by going alone; and more at liberty to be guided by her
+own taste in selecting, and to consult her pecuniary convenience in
+regard to the price. It is only when you feel that you have reason for
+distrusting your own judgment, as to the quality and gentility of the
+articles, that it is well to be accompanied by a person of more
+experience. And then you will, most probably, be unwilling to fatigue
+her by going to as many shops as you would like to visit. In most cases,
+it is best to go shopping without any companion, except, perhaps, a
+member of your immediate family. Gentlemen consider it a very irksome
+task to go on shopping expeditions, and their ill-concealed impatience
+becomes equally irksome to you.
+
+If you have given the salesman or saleswoman unusual trouble in showing
+you articles which you find not to suit, make some compensation, by at
+least one or two small purchases before leaving the store; for instance,
+linen to lay by as a body-lining for a future dress, gloves, mits, a
+neck-ribbon, cotton spools, pins, needles, tape, black sewing-silk,
+&c.,--things that will always come into use.
+
+Remember that in all American stores, the rule of "first come, first
+served," is rigidly observed. Therefore, testify no impatience if a
+servant-girl, making a sixpenny purchase, is served before you--which
+she certainly will be, if her entrance has preceded yours.
+
+There are still some ladies who think that one of the great arts of
+shopping, is to disparage the articles shown to them, to exclaim at the
+price, and to assert that at other places they can get exactly such
+things infinitely lower. When shopping, (as well as under all other
+circumstances,) it is best to adhere to the truth. If you really like
+the article, why not gratify the salesman by saying so. If you know that
+the price is in conformity to the usual rate, you need not attempt to
+get it lower, for you will seldom succeed--unless, indeed, on that day
+the tradesman is particularly anxious to sell, having a sum of money to
+make up, and being somewhat at a loss. Perhaps then, he may abate
+something; but if he does not himself propose the abatement, and if he
+is largely in business, and sure of plenty of custom, there will be
+little use in your urging it.
+
+If you are a stranger in the city, (Philadelphia for instance,) do not
+always be exclaiming at the prices, and declaring that you can buy the
+same articles much lower and much handsomer in New York, Boston, or
+Baltimore. For certain reasons, prices are different in different
+places. If an article is shown to you in Philadelphia as "something
+quite new," refrain from saying that it has been out of fashion these
+two years in New York. This may injure its sale with bystanders,
+chancing to hear you. You need only say "that it is very pretty, but you
+do not want it now."
+
+It is strange, but no less strange than true, that though the distance
+between New York and Philadelphia is reduced to less than half a day's
+travel, it takes a year or more, for the New York fashions to get to
+Philadelphia, and many of them never arrive at all. There are certain
+dress-makers and milliners in the latter city, who, if you show them any
+thing quite fresh from New York, will habitually reply, "Oh! we made
+that, here in Philadelphia, a year or two ago." You need not believe
+them. Our American ladies derive all their ideas of costume from France;
+and as New York rejoices in the most extensive and the most speedy
+intercourse with that land of taste and elegance, the French fashions
+always get there first. The wonder is that so long a time elapses
+before they prevail in the other cities. We must say, however, that
+whatever is fantastic and extreme, is generally modified and softened
+down in Philadelphia. In provincial towns, and in remote new
+settlements, we often see a disposition to carry to the utmost a fashion
+already too showy or gaudy.
+
+When you see on another lady a new article of dress that you admire, it
+is _not_ ill-manners, (but rather the contrary,) to tell her so. But
+unless you really desire to get one exactly like it for yourself, and
+are sincerely asking for information, it is considered very rude to
+enquire where she bought it, and what was the cost. And it is peculiarly
+vulgar to preface the enquiry by the foolish words--"If it is a fair
+question." The very doubt proves that you know the question to be a very
+unfair one. And so it is. We have never known that expression used
+except to introduce something rude and improper. Any lady who is asked
+an impertinent question, would be perfectly justifiable in saying,
+"Excuse me from answering"--and then immediately changing the
+conversation. Yet there are ladies who are always catechising others
+about their dress. You are not bound to give explicit answers to these,
+or any other questions concerning your personal affairs. Much mischief
+accrues in society, from some ladies being too inquisitive, and others
+too communicative.
+
+It is really a great fatigue, both of body and mind, to go shopping with
+a very close economist, particularly if you know that she can well
+afford a sufficiently liberal expenditure. The length of time she will
+ponder over every thing before she can "make up her mind;" the
+ever-besetting fear that she may possibly have to give a few cents more
+in one store than in another; her long deliberation as to whether a
+smaller than the usual quantity may not be "made to do;" her
+predilection for bargain-seeking in streets far off, and ungenteel; the
+immense trouble she gives to the persons behind the counter,--all will
+induce you to forswear trying a second time the experiment of attending
+on the progress of a shopper who sets out with the vain expectation of
+obtaining good articles at paltry prices.
+
+In what are called "cheap shops," you will rarely find more than two or
+three things that are really cheap. If of bad quality, they are not
+_cheap_, but dear. Low-priced ribbons, for instance, are generally
+flimsy, tawdry, of ugly figures, and vulgar colours,--soon fading, and
+soon "getting into a string." Yet there are ladies who will walk two
+miles to hustle in the crowd they find squeezing toward the counter of
+the last new emporium of cheap ribbons; and, while waiting their turn,
+have nothing to look at around them but lots of trash, that if they
+bought they would be ashamed to wear. Coarse finery is trumpery.
+
+On the other hand, for ladies of small means, it is not indispensable to
+their standing in society, that they should deal only at stores noted
+for selling _higher_ than the usual price. It is a very poor boast;
+particularly when they cannot afford it.
+
+Whatever may be the caprices of fashion, a lady of good taste (and we
+may add, good sense,) will not, in buying dresses, select those of
+large figures, and high glaring colours. There is something peculiarly
+ungenteel and ungraceful in a white ground with large red flowers and
+green leaves wandering over it. Even if the fabric is brocade, it has a
+look of calico. Red and green is only beautiful in real flowers. In a
+lady's dress, it somehow looks unlady-like. A great variety of bright
+colours is only suited to a carpet. For a dress, two are quite
+sufficient. And then if one is blue, pink, scarlet, or orange, let it be
+contrasted with brown, gray, olive, or some chaste and quiet tint that
+will set it off. Few silks are more becoming than those in which the
+figure is formed by a darker shade of the same colour as the ground.
+Silks of one colour only, trim the best--variegated trimming looks
+confused and ineffective. No colours are more ungenteel, or in worse
+taste, than reddish lilacs, reddish purples, and reddish browns. The
+original tint of aronetta, or anatto, is the contempt of ladies; but by
+previously washing the article in strong, warm pot-ash water, before it
+is put into the solution of aronetta, you will obtain a beautiful
+bird-of-paradise colour, entirely free from all appearance of the
+unpopular powder.
+
+Buy no silk that is stiff and hard, however thick and heavy it may seem.
+It will crack and split, and wear worse than a soft silk that appears
+much thinner. Venture on no satin that is not of excellent quality. A
+thin satin frays and ravels, and is not worth making up. For common
+wear, a soft, thick India silk is generally excellent. We have never
+seen a _good one_ for less than a dollar a yard. The figured or
+embossed India silks are not worth buying,--wearing rough and fuzzy, and
+fraying all over. For a serviceable, long-lasting home dress, there is
+nothing equal to a very thick, soft, double-width India black satin,
+such as is called two yards wide, and sells at two dollars a yard. But
+they have become very scarce. Never use satin to cover cord. It ravels
+too much. Velvet and satin should be corded with substantial silk. If
+you cannot match the exact shade, let it be darker rather than lighter.
+A belt-ribbon should always be darker than the dress. Cord merino with
+itself. A cording of silk will not wash.
+
+If you cannot get lace that is tolerably fine, wear none at all, rather
+than have it coarse. We have seen lace called Brussels, so coarse that
+it looked as if made of cotton, though in truth it was of thread. There
+was no real beauty in it. Genuine Brussels lace is exquisitely fine.
+
+Large showy ornaments, by way of jewellery, are exceedingly ungenteel.
+They always tell their own story, of glass stones set in gilding, not
+gold. If you cannot obtain real jewels, never attempt sham ones. It
+requires no practised eye to detect them--particularly false diamonds.
+
+Do not interfere with the shopping of other customers, (who may chance
+to stand near you at the counter,) by either praising or deprecating any
+of the articles they are looking at. Leave them to the exercise of their
+own judgment; unless they ask your opinion. And then give it in a low
+voice, and sincerely.
+
+If you meet an acquaintance unexpectedly in a store, it is not well to
+engage in a long conversation with her, and thus detain persons behind
+the counter from waiting on other customers. Finish your purchase-making
+first, and then you will have leisure to step aside and converse. A
+store is not the place for social intercourse, and you may chance to say
+something there, that bystanders should not hear. "Greetings in the
+market-place" should always be short.
+
+It is not admissible to try on kid gloves in a store. After buying a
+pair, ask for the glove-stretcher, (which they keep in all good shops,
+for the convenience of customers,) and then stretch the gloves upon it,
+unless you have a glove-stretcher at home. This will render them easy to
+put on when you take them into wear. Glove-stretchers are to be bought
+at the variety stores; or ought to be. They will save many a new glove
+from tearing.
+
+In buying stockings, whether silk or cotton, you will find it cheapest
+in the end, to get those of the best _English_ manufacture, particularly
+those of fine quality. For winter, and to wear with boots, English
+stockings of unbleached cotton are very comfortable, feeling warmer than
+those that are perfectly white. It is to be lamented that all black
+stockings (even of silk) are painful and injurious to the feet, the
+copperas dye being poisonous.
+
+In buying black mits, see that they are _really of silk_, otherwise they
+will stain your hands, and look brown and foxy. Much cotton is now
+substituted for silk; a way having been discovered of carding silk and
+cotton together, before the thread is spun. Linen also, is shamefully
+adulterated with cotton, and it is difficult for purchasers to discover
+the cheat before the article is washed. Linen is frequently injured in
+the piece by bad bleaching-salts; so that after the first washing, it
+drops into holes, such as are caused by vitriol. Of this we have had sad
+experience in several instances, when the linen was supposed to be of
+the best quality.
+
+Always object to a parcel being put up in newspaper--as the printing-ink
+will rub off, and soil the article enclosed. If it is a little thing
+that you are going to take home in your own hand, it will smear your
+gloves. All shopkeepers in good business can afford to buy proper
+wrapping-paper, and they generally do so. It is very cheap. See also
+that they do not wrap your purchase in so small a bit of paper as to
+squeeze and crush it.
+
+If you go out with much money, (which is never advisable,) divide it
+into two portions, putting part in your pocket-book or porte-monnaie,
+and the remainder into your purse, so that if you lose it, or have your
+pocket picked, the loss may be less. Do not carry notes in your purse,
+but keep them in your pocket-book. Little gold dollars had best go into
+your porte-monnaie. If kept in your purse with small change, you will be
+very likely to lose them, or to mistake them for three-cent pieces if
+the light is bad.
+
+Once, on embarking in a New York steamboat, we saw a gentleman having
+bought a penny paper, give the news-boy a gold eagle in mistake for a
+cent. The gentleman was instantly apprized of his error by a bystander,
+who had seen it; but the boy had already sprung upon the wharf and was
+lost in the crowd.
+
+We knew an instance of a lady in New York giving a hundred-dollar note
+to a strawberry woman, instead of a note of one dollar. Neither note nor
+woman were seen or heard of more.
+
+In getting change see that three-cent pieces are not given to you for
+five cents.
+
+And now a few words to saleswomen. They have always, when commencing
+that vocation, two important qualities to cultivate (exclusive of
+cleverness in business)--civility, and patience. In these two
+requisites, few of our American young women are deficient. Let them also
+learn activity in moving, and quickness in recollecting where all the
+articles called for are to be found, so as not to keep the customers
+waiting too long, while they, the sellers, are searching the shelves and
+boxes. Also, if a lady wishes to match something, (for instance, a piece
+of silk,) it is foolish and useless to bring her a piece that is not
+_exactly_ like; trying to persuade her to take it, and calling it "as
+good a match as she is likely to get." Of course she will _not_ take a
+piece that is only _tolerably_ like, but not quite the same; for unless
+it matches exactly, it is no match at all. If a customer enquires for
+light blue ribbon it is absurd to bring her dark blue, saying "we have
+no light blue"--or to say "we have no pink, but we have scarlet--we have
+no lilac, but we have purple." Or still worse, to try to persuade the
+customer that deep crimson is a beautiful shade of scarlet; or worse
+than all, that those very unbecoming tints, called improperly rose-white
+and pearl-white, are really a pure dead white; when you know very well
+that they are no such thing. Both white and black are very difficult to
+match _precisely_.
+
+Let the yard-measure be visible to the customers. In some shops the
+measure is at the back of the counter, hidden behind a glass case. This
+practice of measuring out of sight, sometimes gives rise to a suspicion
+that the measure is not true, as it is so easy to deceive where the
+brass nails that mark it are concealed from view of the customers.
+
+Every female who keeps, or attends in a store, should discourage the
+visits of her friends at business hours. If she looks off to chat with
+her shop-visiters, she cannot attend properly to her customers; and
+those visiters may be inconsiderate and obtrusive enough to interfere,
+by putting in their word, and praising the beauty or cheapness of the
+articles, by way of promoting the interest of the seller, which it
+ultimately _will not_.
+
+Show as much civility and attention to a customer plainly dressed, and
+walking on foot, or getting out of an omnibus, as you would to a lady
+elegantly attired, and coming in her own carriage. The former may prove
+the most profitable customer. Be careful to exhibit no temper, even if
+you have had the trouble of showing a variety of goods to one who goes
+away without buying any thing. Another time, perhaps, she may come and
+make large purchases: but if you offend her, she will assuredly never
+enter the store again. Recollect that no one feels under the least
+compulsion to buy what does not suit them. You would not yourself.
+Habitual courtesy is a valuable qualification, and always turns to good
+account.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[7] When circumstances render it expedient to carry much money out with
+you, divide it; putting half in one purse or pocket-book, and half in
+another, and put these portions into two pockets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+PLACES OF AMUSEMENT.
+
+
+It would be well in _all_ places of public amusement, if there could be
+an apartment appropriated to the ladies, in which they might deposit
+their cloaks, hoods, &c. in charge of a responsible attendant; her care
+to be rewarded by a small gratuity. Ladies would then be under no
+necessity of carrying warm outer-garments into a crowded and heated
+room; or of wearing their bonnets, and thereby intercepting the view of
+persons seated behind them; always a grievance where the benches are not
+sufficiently elevated, or where there is no difference at all in their
+respective elevation, as is sometimes the case. Also, the appearance of
+the female part of the company is always more elegant, when wearing
+bandeaus, caps, or other light head-dresses; young persons requiring
+their hair only, or the slight decoration of a flower or a ribbon. It is
+very painful and fatiguing to be for several hours continually dodging
+your head from side to side, and stretching your neck this way and that,
+and peeping wherever you can obtain a tantalizing glimpse between the
+bonnets of ladies seated immediately before you. This, in addition to
+the annoyance of being squeezed on a bench that is over-full, is enough
+to destroy nearly all the pleasure of the exhibition; and to make a
+large portion of the audience regret that they came.
+
+If you wish to secure a good seat, go early. It is better to sit there
+an hour before the commencement of the performance, than to arrive after
+it has begun. The time of waiting will soon pass away, in conversation
+with the friends whom you have accompanied.
+
+When invited to join a party to a place of amusement, begin to prepare
+in ample time; so as not to keep them waiting for you. When a _large_
+party is going to a place of amusement, (for instance, the theatre, or
+opera,) it is better that each family should go thither from their own
+home, (being provided with their own tickets,) than that they should all
+rendezvous at the house of one of the company; at the risk of keeping
+the whole party waiting, perhaps for the very youngest members of it.
+When a box has been taken, let the tickets be sent to all the persons
+who are to have seats in it, and not retained by the taker of the box
+till the whole party has assembled at the door of the theatre. If the
+tickets are thus distributed, the persons from each house can go when
+they please, without compelling any of the party to wait for them.
+
+Still, to make an entrance after the performance has begun, is (or ought
+to be) very embarrassing to ladies. It excites the attention of all
+around, diverting that attention from the performance; and there is
+always, when the house is full, and the hour late, some delay and
+difficulty in reaching the seats, even when the seats have been secured.
+
+If it is a concert, where places cannot be previously engaged, there
+are, of course, additional reasons for going in due time; and the most
+sensible and best-behaved part of the audience always endeavour to do
+so. But if you are unavoidably late, be satisfied to pay the penalty, by
+quietly taking back-seats, if no others are vacant. We have seen young
+ladies not arriving till after the entertainment had commenced, march
+boldly up to the front benches, and stand there looking steadfastly in
+the faces of gentlemen who with their parties had earned good seats by
+coming soon after the doors were opened. The ladies persevering in this
+determined stare, till they succeeded in dislodging these unfortunate
+gentlemen, and compelling them to quit their seats, to leave the ladies
+who belonged to them, and to stand for the remainder of the evening,
+perhaps in a distant part of the room. American _men_ are noted,
+everywhere, for their politeness to females. We wish we could say the
+same of the politeness of our fair countrywomen in return. Yet
+frequently they will avail themselves of these civilities from
+strangers, without rewarding them with a word of thanks, or even a bow
+of acknowledgment.
+
+English tourists remark (and with truth) that there is no position in
+which American ladies appear to such disadvantage as when crowding the
+galleries of our legislative assemblies; ejecting gentlemen to whom it
+is of importance to hear the debates; and still worse, intruding upon
+the floor of the senate-chamber, and compelling the senators to
+relinquish their places, and find others where they can, or else to
+stand all the time. And among these ladies, there may be very few who
+are really capable of enjoying or appreciating the eloquence of our
+distinguished orators, or of entering understandingly into the merits of
+the question. Often these damsels are whispering half the time about
+some nonsense of their own; and often, as is surmised, the chief object
+of the ladies whose visits to the capitol are most frequent, is the
+chance of a few words of flirtation with some of the most gallant among
+the members; or the possibility of being escorted home by a congressman,
+who has but little to do, or at least who does but little. We think the
+English parliament is right in excluding ladies from their halls, except
+when the queen goes there in state, to open or prorogue the session. Let
+them be satisfied with reading the debates in the newspapers.
+
+We acknowledge that it is very interesting to see and hear the most
+eminent men of our country arranging the affairs of the nation; to
+become acquainted with their personal appearance, and to listen to their
+eloquence. But the privilege should not be abused as it is, by those
+who, after all, listen so badly, or comprehend so badly, that if
+questioned an hour afterward, they could scarcely repeat the purport of
+one single sentence,--nor perhaps even recollect the subject of debate.
+Such instances we have known--and not a few of them either.
+
+To laugh deridingly, or to whisper unfavourable remarks during the
+performance of a concert or a play, is a rudeness of which few American
+ladies are guilty. Still, we occasionally see some of that few, who,
+much to the annoyance of those persons near them who really wish to
+enjoy what they came for, talk audibly in ridicule of the performers;
+the performers being, in all probability, near enough to hear these
+vexatious remarks, and to be disconcerted by them. We heard of a highly
+respectable actress who was so mortified by the unfeeling animadversions
+of some young ladies in a stage-box, that she forgot her part, was
+unable to utter a word, or to restrain her tears, and became so nervous
+that she played badly during the remainder of the piece, and was in
+consequence, severely handled next day by the newspaper critics. This
+was very hard.
+
+Parents before taking their children to the theatre, should first
+ascertain whether the play is such as will amuse or interest them. Small
+children are invariably restless, troublesome, and finally sleepy at a
+performance that affords _them_ no entertainment, and they will be
+better at home. Yet we have seen little girls brought to see the painful
+tragedy of the Gamester--or still worse, the dreary comedy of the
+Stranger. How is it that young ladies are frequently matronized to plays
+that even their mothers cannot witness without blushes?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+TRAVELLING.
+
+
+No lady should set out on a journey unprovided with an oiled-silk bag
+for the reception of tooth-brushes, soap, a hair-brush, and a towel. Let
+the bag be about half a quarter of a yard longer at the back than at the
+front; so as to leave a flap to turn over, and tie down, when all the
+articles are in. It should be square, (exclusive of the flap,) and about
+a quarter and half-quarter in length, and the same in breadth; stitched
+in compartments, something like an old-fashioned thread-case, only that
+the compartments differ much in size. The two smallest are for two
+tooth-brushes. Another should be broad enough to contain a hair-brush.
+For travelling, have a hair-brush with a mirror at the back, and if you
+can get one that has also a dressing-comb attached to it, so much the
+better. The largest compartment (which should occupy the centre) is for
+a towel, and a cake of soap. If you are obliged to start in haste, all
+these things can be put in while wet from recent use, the towel being
+rolled or folded into as small a compass as possible. The oiled silk
+will prevent the wet from oozing through. When all are in, turn over the
+flap at the top, (which should be furnished with two long strings of
+broad, white tape,) and tie it securely down. Carry this bag in the
+square satchel which all ladies now keep in their hands when travelling,
+and which contain such things as they may want during the day,
+precluding the necessity of opening their large carpet-bag, till they
+stop for the night.
+
+In a carpet-bag pack nothing but white articles, or such as can be
+washed, and will not be spoiled by the bag chancing to get wet. Have
+your name engraved on the lock of your carpet-bag, and also on the brass
+plate of your trunks. Besides this, write your full direction on several
+cards, make a small hole in each, and running a string through the hole,
+tie a card to the handle of each trunk, and sew one on the side of your
+carpet-bag--the direction designating the place to which you are going.
+Your name in full should be painted in white letters on every trunk.
+This costs but a trifle, and secures the recognition of your baggage
+when missing. It is also an excellent plan to tie round the handle of
+each trunk or bag, a bit of ribbon--blue, red, or yellow--all the bits
+being off the same piece.[8]
+
+Write on a large card, a list and description of each trunk, box, &c.
+and give the card to the gentleman who escorts you. It will greatly
+assist him in identifying all the articles that comprise your baggage.
+
+Be quite ready at least a quarter of an hour before the time for
+starting. Nelson said he traced all the most fortunate events of his
+life to his practice of being, on every occasion, quite prepared a
+quarter of an hour too early. It is a good rule.
+
+Previous to departing, put into the hand of your escort rather more than
+a sufficient sum for the expenses of your journey, so as to provide for
+all possible contingencies. He will return you the balance when all is
+paid. Having done this, should any person belonging to the line come to
+you for your fare, refer them to the gentleman, (mentioning his name,)
+and take care to pay nothing more yourself.
+
+Dress very plainly when travelling. Few ladies that _are_ ladies wear
+finery in rail-cars, and steamboats--still less in stages--stage-roads
+being usually very dusty. Showy silks, and what are called dress-bonnets
+are preposterous--so are jewellery ornaments, which, if real, you run a
+great risk of losing, and if false, are very ungenteel. Above all, do
+not travel in white kid gloves. Respectable women never do.
+
+The best travelling-dresses are of merino, or alpaca; plain mousseline
+de laine, grey or brown linen; or strong India silk, senshaw for
+instance. In warm weather, gingham is better than printed lawn, which
+rumples and tumbles and "gets into a string" directly. The sleeves wide,
+for if tight to the arm, they will stain with perspiration. Your
+travelling-dress for summer should have a large cape or pelerine of the
+same. Beside which, carry on your arm a large shawl for chilly mornings
+and evenings. No lady should travel in cold weather, without a warm
+cloak, mantilla, or pelisse,--furs, &c. of course--and travelling-boots
+lined with fur or flannel; having also inner soles of lambs-wool,
+varnished on the leather side to make them water-proof. Take with you
+one of those very useful umbrellas, that are large enough to shelter one
+person from the rain, and can also be used as a parasol. Do not pack it
+away in a trunk, for you may want it in the transit from rail-car to
+steamboat. Keep it near you all the time, with your satchel and extra
+shawl. By all means wear a white collar.
+
+If you are fortunately able to ride backward as well as forward, you
+will be less incommoded with flying sparks, by sitting with your back to
+the engine. A spark getting into the eye is very painful, and sometimes
+dangerous. It is possible to expel it by blowing your nose very hard,
+while with the other hand you wipe out the particle of cinder with a
+corner of your handkerchief, pulling down the lower eye-lid. We have
+seen this done successfully. Another way is to wrap the head of a pin in
+the corner of a fine, soft cambric handkerchief, and placing it beneath
+the lid, sweep all round the eye with it. If this does not succeed, get
+out at the first station-house where you can stop long enough, procure a
+bristle-hair from a sweeping-brush, tie it in a loop or bow with a bit
+of thread, and let some one insert it beneath your eye-lid, and move it
+slowly all round, so as to catch in it the offending particle of coal,
+and bring it out. Or if there is time, send to the nearest apothecary
+for an eye-stone, (in reality, a lobster's eye,) and soak it five
+minutes in a saucer of vinegar and water to give it activity, then,
+wiping it dry, and carefully inserting it beneath the eye-lid, bind a
+handkerchief over it. The eye-stone will go circling round the eye, and
+most likely take up the mote in its course. When the pain ceases, remove
+the handkerchief, and wash the eye with cold water.
+
+To read in a rail-car is very injurious to the eyes, from the quivering,
+tremulous motion it seems to communicate to the letters of the page. It
+is best to abstain from your book till you are transferred to the
+steamboat.
+
+Many persons cannot talk in a rail-car without a painful exertion of the
+voice. And it is not an easy task, even to those whose lungs are strong.
+You can easily excuse yourself from conversing with your escort, by
+telling him that your voice is not loud enough to be heard above the
+racket of the cars, and that though you will gladly listen to _him_, he
+must allow you to listen without replying, except in as few words as
+possible. If he finds a gentleman with whom he is acquainted, desire him
+to talk to his friend, and leave you to hear their conversation as a
+silent auditor.
+
+If you pass the night in a steamboat, and can afford the additional
+expense of a _whole_ state-room, by all means engage one as soon as you
+go on board. The chambermaid will give you the key and the number, and
+you can retire to it whenever you please, and enjoy the luxury of being
+alone, and of washing and dressing without witnesses. If you are
+constrained to take a berth in the ladies' sleeping-cabin, it is not the
+least necessary to retire to it immediately after supper. By doing so
+you will have a very long, tiresome night, and be awake many hours
+before morning. And if you are awake, do not be continually calling upon
+the poor chambermaid, and disturbing her with enquiries, such as "Where
+are we now?" and "How soon shall we arrive?"
+
+The saloon is the place in which ladies and gentlemen sit together. If a
+lady is so inconsiderate or selfish as to violate the rules of the boat,
+by inviting her husband or lover to take a seat in the ladies' cabin,
+there is no impropriety in sending the chambermaid to remind him that he
+must leave the room. This is often done, and always should be. We once
+saw a gentleman (or a pretended one) so pertinacious in remaining, (it
+is true his lady-love urged him "not to mind,") that the captain had to
+be brought to threaten him with forcible expulsion. This had the desired
+effect.
+
+Such are the facilities of travelling, that a lady evidently
+respectable, plainly dressed, and behaving properly, may travel very
+well without a gentleman. Two ladies still better. On commencing the
+journey she should speak to the conductor, requesting him to attend to
+her and her baggage, and to introduce her to the captain of the boat,
+who will of course take charge of her during the voyage.
+
+Before arriving at the wharf, she had best engage one of the servants of
+the boat, (promising him a shilling or two,) to obtain for her a porter
+or a hack, and to see that her baggage is safe. She must stipulate with
+the hackman that no stranger is to be put into the carriage with her.
+This is against the law, but notwithstanding, is often done, and the
+lady who has first engaged the coach, is liable to have for her
+riding-companions persons of improper character and vulgar appearance,
+and to be carried with them to their places in remote parts of the city,
+before she is conveyed to her own home. Previous to getting in, take the
+number of the coach, by writing it on a card with your pencil, and make
+your bargain with him as to the charge for conveying you and your
+baggage.
+
+It would be well if the imposition and insolence of hack-drivers were
+_always_ followed with the punishments provided by law. Ladies are
+naturally unwilling to appear at a magistrate's office. But it is the
+duty of every gentleman, as a good citizen, to see that the municipal
+regulations are never violated with impunity.
+
+All trouble may be avoided on arriving, by sending for the captain of
+the boat, and requesting him to see you on shore, or to depute his clerk
+to that office.
+
+In arriving at a rail-road depôt, be careful not to quit the cars till
+after they have positively stopped quite still. The time gained is but
+an instant, and the risk is very imminent of serious injury by falling,
+should your ankle twist in stepping out while there is the least motion.
+
+On arriving at a hotel, ask immediately to see the proprietor; give him
+your name and address, tell how long you purpose staying, and request
+him to see that you are provided with a good room. Request him also to
+conduct you to the dining-room at dinner-time, and allot you a seat near
+his own. For this purpose, he will wait for you near the door, (do not
+_keep him waiting_,) or meet you in the ladies' drawing-room. While at
+table, if the proprietor or any other gentleman asks you to take wine
+with him, politely refuse.
+
+If, on arriving at the wharf, you expect a gentleman to meet you, take a
+seat either on deck near the cabin-door, or just inside of the door, so
+that he may find you easily.
+
+If you are to pursue your journey early in the morning, desire,
+over-night, the waiter who attends your room, to knock hard at your door
+an hour before the time of starting. Before you go down-stairs, ask for
+the chambermaid who has attended you, and give her a fee, (not less than
+a quarter-dollar,) putting it into her own hand yourself, and not
+commissioning another to convey it to her. Do not omit giving a
+quarter-dollar at least, to the waiter who attended your room, and one
+also to him who has served you at table.
+
+Refrain from making acquaintance with any strangers, unless you are
+certain of their respectability. If a gentleman of whom you know
+nothing, endeavours to get into conversation with you, turn away, and
+make no reply. Avoid saying any thing to women in showy attire, with
+painted faces, and white kid gloves. Such persons have frequently the
+assurance to try to be very sociable with respectable ladies who are
+travelling alone. Keep aloof from them always.
+
+If you have breakfasted early, it will be well to put some
+gingerbread-nuts or biscuits into your satchel, as you may become very
+hungry before dinner.
+
+Carry but little money in your pocket--not more than will suffice for
+the expenses of the day. But for travelling, have another pocket,
+concealed _beneath_ your upper petticoat, and _in that_ keep the main
+portion of your cash. Be cautious of taking bank-notes in change--they
+may be such as you cannot pass. If they are offered to you, refuse them,
+and insist upon gold or silver.
+
+Travelling in America, ladies frequently meet with little civilities
+from gentlemen, so delicately offered, that to refuse them would be
+rude. These incidental acts of politeness should always be acknowledged
+with thanks; but they should not be construed into a desire of
+commencing an acquaintance. If a lady obliged to travel alone, wishes to
+be treated with respect, her own deportment must in all things be quiet,
+modest and retiring.
+
+If you have a servant with you, see that she gets her meals, and has a
+comfortable sleeping-place, or in all probability she will be neglected
+and overlooked. In a steamboat or a hotel, speak yourself to the
+head-waiter, and desire him to take her to the servants' table and
+attend to her; and tell the chambermaid to see her provided with a bed.
+If their lady forgets to look out for them, coloured women in particular
+have often no courage to look out for themselves.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[8] In a former work of the author's, _The House Book_, published by A.
+Hart, Philadelphia, will be found ample directions for packing trunks,
+&c.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+DEPORTMENT AT A HOTEL, OR AT A LARGE BOARDING-HOUSE.
+
+
+Now that there is so much travelling in the summer, (and indeed at all
+seasons,) and so much living in public, to save the trouble and the
+expense of keeping house in private, it may be well to offer some hints
+on the propriety of manners that ought to be observed in places where
+you are always exposed to the inspection and to the remarks of
+strangers. These strangers, knowing you but slightly, or not at all,
+will naturally draw their inferences for or against you from what they
+see before their eyes; concluding that you are genteel or ungenteel,
+patrician or plebeian, according to the coarseness or the polish of your
+manners.
+
+Yet strange to say, there are persons who indulge themselves in
+astounding acts of rudeness, from the supposition that a hotel is only a
+tavern, a sort of Liberty Hall, where every one has a right to "take
+their ease in their inn," if they pay for it. Have they no respect for
+themselves?
+
+It is usual for members of the same party to meet in the ladies'
+drawing-room before they go in to breakfast, unless the party is large;
+and then it is not expected that half a dozen persons should be kept
+waiting for one or two late risers, or tardy dressers. When two or
+three of the party find themselves ready in the parlour, it will be best
+for them to proceed to the eating-room, and leave the others to follow
+at their convenience, by twos or by threes,--always seeing that a young
+lady, if a stranger, is not left to go in alone. Strangers at hotels can
+have no particular seats at breakfast and tea, as at these two repasts,
+they always come to table by instalments, and at no regular time. If a
+large party enters all at once and they are _determined_ to sit all
+together, they may occasion much inconvenience to persons already
+seated, or to the regular boarders, who have their allotted seats.
+Neither is there any necessity or advantage in six, eight, or ten
+people, who travel as one party, resolving to establish themselves at a
+hotel-table all side by side, in a row; particularly when it causes
+inconvenience to others. Certainly not more than three or four persons
+ranged in a line can join in the same conversation, or attend to the
+wants of their friends. Why then should they make any extraordinary
+point of occupying chairs next to each other. It would be better to
+divide their forces; and if they can, for half to sit on one side of the
+table, and the other half directly opposite. Or they will find that if
+the table is full, and they have to disperse still more widely, they had
+best do so with a good grace, rather than make any disturbance on the
+subject. When they quit the table to return to the drawing-room they may
+be very sure of all meeting again near the door.
+
+Nine o'clock (or half-past) is the latest hour that any guest at a
+hotel should come to breakfast; and few _Americans_ have so little
+consideration as to detain the table and the servants till ten or
+eleven.[9] At a boarding-house, the guests are very soon made to
+understand that if they are late risers, they need expect nothing but
+the cold leavings of the breakfast. At a hotel they find more
+indulgence. You there choose from the bill of fare such dishes as you
+may prefer, and they will be brought to you, after you have been
+supplied with tea or coffee, and bread and butter to begin with. To each
+person is allowed a separate dish or plate of the articles selected; and
+it is understood to be for yourself alone, and that no other person has
+a right to partake of it, or to meddle with it in any way. Yet even from
+your own dish, never help yourself with the knife and fork or spoon you
+are eating with; but always use a spare one, with which the waiter will
+furnish you. Do not eat different sorts of relishes off the same plate.
+At a hotel there is no scarcity of plates, or of servants to change
+them. Always take butter with the butter-knife, and then do not forget
+to return that knife to the butter-plate. Carefully avoid cutting bread
+with your own knife, or taking salt with it from the salt-cellar. It
+looks as if you had not been accustomed to butter-knives and
+salt-spoons.
+
+Ladies no longer eat salt-fish at a public-table. The odour of it is
+now considered extremely ungenteel, and it is always very disagreeable
+to those who _do not_ eat it. If you breakfast alone, you can then
+indulge in it.
+
+Speak to the waiter in a distinct, but not in too loud a voice, and
+always civilly. Thank him for any little extra attention he may show
+you. If you do not like what he has brought you, or find that you cannot
+eat it, make your objection in a low voice, so as not to be heard by the
+neighbouring guests; and quietly desire him to bring you something else.
+
+It is usual at a hotel-table for each waiter to have charge of three or
+four persons, and to attend to _their_ wants exclusively. If you are a
+stranger, ask the waiter his name when he first comes to you; and unless
+he is not at hand, and you see another standing idle, do not call on any
+one else to attend you.
+
+If the servants are coloured men, refrain from all conversation in their
+presence that may grate harshly on their feelings, by reminding them of
+their unfortunate African blood. Do not talk of them as "negroes,"[10]
+or "darkies." Avoid all discussions of abolition, (either for or
+against,) when coloured people are by. Also, quote none of their
+laughable sayings while they are present.
+
+When the domestics are Irish, and you have occasion to reprove them for
+their negligence, forgetfulness, or blunders, do so without any
+reference to their country. If you find one who is disrespectful or
+insolent, or who persists in asserting a falsehood, it is safest to make
+no reply yourself, but to have the matter represented to the proprietor
+of the house; desiring that another waiter may be allotted to you.
+
+It is ungenteel to go to the breakfast-table in any costume approaching
+to full dress. There must be no flowers or ribbons in the hair. A
+morning-cap should be as simple as possible. The most genteel
+morning-dress is a close gown of some plain material, with long sleeves,
+which in summer may be white muslin. A merino or cashmere wrapper,
+(grey, brown, purple, or olive,) faced or trimmed with other merino of
+an entirely different colour, such as crimson, scarlet, green, or blue,
+is a becoming morning dress for winter. In summer, a white
+cambric-muslin morning-robe is the handsomest breakfast attire, but one
+of gingham or printed muslin the most convenient. The coloured dress may
+be made open in front, with short loose sleeves and a pointed body.
+Beneath it a white under-dress, having a chemisette front down to the
+belt, and long white sleeves down to the wrist. This forms a very
+graceful morning costume, the white skirt appearing where the coloured
+skirt opens.
+
+The fashion of wearing black silk mittens at breakfast is now obsolete.
+It was always inconvenient, and neither useful nor ornamental.
+
+After breakfast, it is customary for the ladies to adjourn to the
+drawing-room, where they converse, or read the papers, or receive early
+visiters, while the chambermaids are putting the bed-chambers in order.
+Some who are not accustomed to hotels, go immediately from the
+breakfast-table to their own apartment, sitting there among the flue and
+dust during the whole process of bed-making and room-sweeping; afraid to
+trust the chambermaid alone, lest she should steal something. This is
+absurd. They should know that the chambermaids (being all considered
+honest and responsible) are furnished with duplicate keys, by which they
+can at any time unlock the chamber-doors, and let themselves in, when
+the occupant is absent. Also, this palpable suspicion of their honesty
+is an insult to the girls, and is always felt as such. It is sufficient
+to lock the bureau, the wardrobe, and your trunks. When you go out,
+(that is, out of the house,) _then_ lock the door of your room, lest
+some one passing by, should have curiosity to stroll in and look about,
+and meddle with what they see there.
+
+Should you perceive that the dress of another lady is, by some accident,
+out of order--for instance, that a hook or a button has become
+unfastened; or that a string is visibly hanging out; a collar unpinned,
+and falling off; the corner of a shawl dragging along the floor; a skirt
+caught up; or a sleeve slipping down, immediately have the kindness to
+apprize her of it in a low voice, and assist her in repairing the
+mischance; and, if necessary, leave the room with her for that purpose.
+
+We have seen a lady who, finding that a cluster of her false curls was
+coming down, had the courage to say so to a gentleman with whom she was
+conversing at a party. And going openly, and at once, to the nearest
+mirror, she calmly adjusted her borrowed locks, and returned to her seat
+with a good grace. Consequently, nobody laughed at the untoward
+accident; as might perhaps have been the case, had she seemed
+excessively confused and mortified, and awkwardly tried to hold on her
+curls till she got out of the room.
+
+If you do not wish to be encumbered by carrying the key in your pocket,
+let it be left during your absence, with the clerk in the office, or
+with the barkeeper; and send to him for it on your return. Desire the
+servant who attends the door to show no person up to your room during
+your absence. If visiters wish to wait for your return, it is best they
+should do so in the parlour.
+
+In going in and out, be careful to shut the parlour-doors after you,
+except in summer. Young ladies are often very inconsiderate in this
+respect, and cause much inconvenience, in cold weather, to those who do
+not like to sit with a draught of keen air blowing upon them. Even if
+you feel too warm yourself, it is rude to throw open a door, (much more
+to raise a window-sash,) without first enquiring if other ladies have no
+objection.
+
+There is no impropriety in a lady commencing conversation with a
+stranger of genteel appearance. You can easily take occasion to mention
+your own name, and then, in return, she will communicate hers. But,
+unless you are previously certain of her respectability, have little to
+say to a woman who is travelling without a companion, and whose face is
+painted, who wears a profusion of long curls about her neck, who has a
+meretricious expression of eye, and who is over-dressed. It is safest to
+avoid her. Also, you will derive no pleasure or advantage from making
+acquaintance with females who are evidently coarse and vulgar, even if
+you know that they are rich, live in a large house, and are of
+respectable character. Young girls who are loud, noisy, bold, and
+forward, (however fashionable they may be,) it is best also to avoid.
+They will not want your society, as they are generally all the time
+surrounded by "beaux," or else rattling over the keys of the piano.
+
+In a public parlour, it is selfish and unmannerly to sit down to the
+instrument uninvited, and fall to playing or practising, without seeming
+to consider the probability of your interrupting or annoying the rest of
+the company, particularly when you see them all engaged in reading or in
+conversation. If you want amusement, you had better read, or occupy
+yourself with some light sewing or knitting-work.
+
+If you have no book, you can ring the bell, and send to the reading-room
+to borrow a file of newspapers; but in most hotels, there are books
+belonging to the establishment, lying on a table in the ladies' parlour.
+Be sure not to carry any of these books up-stairs, as they are intended
+solely for the drawing-room; and their removal from thence is
+interdicted. Also, never carry away the Directory, the Atlas, the City
+Guide, or any other book placed there for the convenience of strangers.
+
+If you want pen and ink, or any sort of stationery, you can obtain it
+immediately, by ringing for a servant to bring it you from the office.
+In ringing the bell, one pull is sufficient; and always pull the cord
+_downward_. If you jerk it out horizontally, and give successively
+several hard pulls in that direction, the cord is very likely to break,
+or the knob or tassel to come off in your hand. At the chief hotel in
+one of the New England cities, we saw a printed paper with directions in
+large type, pasted beside _every bell-pull in the house_; the directions
+specifying minutely the proper mode of bell-ringing. Could it be that
+this house was frequented by persons unaccustomed to bells?
+
+To return to the too-prevalent evil of uninvited and ill-timed
+piano-playing, (much of which does not deserve the name of music,) we
+have always been at a loss to understand how a young stranger, (modest
+and unobtrusive in other things,) could walk up to the instrument,
+sometimes almost as soon as she arrives, and rattle "fast and furious"
+over the keys, drowning the voices of ladies and gentlemen who were
+talking, and therefore compelling them to cease their conversation; or
+if they pursued it, obliging them to raise their tone painfully; or to
+lose more than half, from the impossibility of hearing each other
+distinctly. To read when piano-playing is going on, is to most persons
+impossible. There are few readers who cannot so concentrate their
+attention on their book, as not to be disturbed by any _talking_ that
+may occur in their vicinity; and if talking _does_ withdraw their
+attention from the book, it is best that they should read only when
+alone in their apartment. But we have met with no one who could read in
+the neighbourhood of a played piano.
+
+If the music is really very good, and accompanied by a fine voice, it is
+true that most readers will willingly close the book to listen. But if
+the playing is barely tolerable, or decidedly bad, and if the singing is
+weak and insipid, or harsh and screaming, or timeless and tasteless, who
+can possibly wish to hear it; except perhaps a doating father, or an
+injudicious mother, vain of her daughter because she is _hers_, and so
+anxious to show her off, that she encourages the girl to display even
+her deficiencies.
+
+We believe that our beloved America is not yet the land of music; and
+that (with many exceptions) her children are generally not furnished
+with much capacity for it. If there was a true feeling for music, there
+would be more genius for that charming art, and there would be more
+composers of original airs, the number of which, in our country, is
+smaller than in any civilized nation in the world. It is true we have
+many excellent musicians, and many very good singers, but still, music
+is not the grand forte of Jonathan. Pity it were,--for he has "a nobler
+and a manlier one."
+
+Now as "there is a time for all things," we persist in saying that the
+time and place for school-girls to hear their own music, or to prove
+that it is not worth hearing, is not in the drawing-room of a hotel, or
+in the presence of a company that can have no desire to hear them. What
+would be thought of a young lady, who in a public room, should suddenly
+come forward and "speak a speech;" or suddenly rise up, and commence,
+"loud and high," a reading of poetry, or recite a French fable, or
+repeat the multiplication table, or favour the company with a
+spontaneous _pas seul_. And yet we do not perceive that any of these
+feats would be a much greater evidence of deficiency in diffidence, (to
+call it by no bolder name,) than the practice of rattling, uninvited and
+unseasonably, over the keys of a piano. A really good musician is rarely
+obtrusive with her music, seldom playing unless she is asked; and then,
+of course, complying at once.[11]
+
+We repeat that no lady should play or sing in company, unless she knows
+herself to be universally considered a good singer or player, and
+capable of something more than the mere series of lessons she has learnt
+from her music teacher. Also, some punishment should be devised for a
+young girl who cannot play, yet has the folly and assurance to seat
+herself at the piano of a public parlour, and annoy the company by an
+hour of tinking and tanking with one finger only. Yet this we have seen;
+and her mother present all the time.
+
+The gratuitous exhibition of bad music is said by Europeans to be one of
+the peculiar characteristics of American young ladies. Let them then
+"reform it altogether."
+
+Bring no large sewing into the ladies' drawing-room, and nothing that
+will produce clippings or litter. Whenever you have occasion to write
+more than a few lines, do it in your own apartment. It is well to have
+always there a small writing-case of your own, with paper, pens, ink,
+wafers, sealing-wax, envelopes, post-office stamps, &c. There are very
+neat little writing-cases, (to be purchased at the best stationers,)
+that are fitted with receptacles for all the above articles, excepting
+paper; the whole occupying no more space in your travelling-satchel than
+a needle-book. The ink is so secured, that there is no danger of its
+spilling. You may even carry these writing-cases in your pocket as
+conveniently as a card-case. As writing-paper should not be folded or
+rolled in packing, lay it flat in a small port-folio, and put it into
+your trunk. You will find great convenience, when from home, to have
+with you a little assortment of writing materials.
+
+Except in cases of illness, it is well to decline invitations to visit
+ladies in their own apartments, unless you are very intimately
+acquainted with them, or have some particular business. Too much
+sociability may induce communications too confidential; and subsequent
+events may prove this confidence to be misplaced. Among the ladies
+staying at a hotel, there is always more harmony, when they all content
+themselves with meeting at table, or in the public drawing-room. Young
+ladies should not encourage daily morning visits from young men boarding
+at the same house, particularly if these visits are long. In our
+country, nearly every young man is obliged, in some way, to get his own
+living; and few can afford to idle away their mornings in loitering
+about parlours, and talking flirtation. A youth who passes his time in
+this manner, is a beau not worth having. A man that deserves to be
+called a _good match_ has something else to do with his mornings. Ladies
+at hotels should be specially careful not to make acquaintance with
+gentlemen of whom they know nothing. If a man of notoriously dissipated
+or immoral character, presumes to request an introduction to a lady who
+is aware of his bad reputation, let her at once reply that not
+considering the acquaintance desirable, she must be excused for
+declining it. It is better thus to keep off an objectionable man, (even
+with the certainty of offending him,) than weakly to subject yourself to
+the annoyance and discredit (perhaps, still worse) of allowing him to
+boast of his intimacy with you.
+
+In conversing with gentlemen at hotels, (and all other places,) try not
+to fall into the too common practice of talking to him nothing but
+nonsense. It is a problem difficult to solve, that so many ladies of
+good abilities and cultivated minds, and who always with their own sex
+talk like intelligent, sensible women, should, as soon as they get into
+conversation with a gentleman, seem immediately to take leave of
+rationality, and demean themselves like utter fools--giving way at once
+to something they call _excitement_, now the fashionable word for almost
+every feeling that is wrong.
+
+We grieve to see a charming, modest, refined young lady, almost the
+moment a gentleman begins to talk to her, changing her whole demeanour,
+and quickly becoming bold, forward, noisy, and nonsensical; chattering
+at the top of her voice about nothing; and keeping up a continual laugh
+about nothing. Does she suppose he cannot understand her if she talks
+sense,--or does she think he will like her the better for regaling him
+with nothing but folly? She is, in all probability, egregiously
+mistaken, unless the gentleman is himself a simpleton.
+
+Let it not be supposed that we have any objection to that sprightliness
+which is one of the most agreeable characteristics of youth. On the
+contrary, we are glad to see vivacity in women of all ages; and if they
+have a sprinkling of wit and humour, so much the better. But we wish
+them to do themselves justice; and not, when conversing with men, run
+wild, because it _is_ with men; and give themselves up to all manner of
+folly, such as would be pointless, vapid, and insipid, if it was not
+seasoned with causeless laughter, and with eyes keeping time to the
+tongue, rolling about in perpetual motion at nothing. We do not wish
+ladies in conversing, even with men of sense, to confine themselves
+always to grave discussions on important subjects. On the contrary, gay
+and lively conversation is always pleasant, when well-timed. But those
+who have not a talent for wit and humour, had best not attempt it.
+Again, in listening to a woman of real wit, you will see that it is her
+hearers who laugh, and not herself.
+
+Persons who have no turn for humour, and little perception of it, are
+apt to mistake mere coarseness for that amusing gift; and in trying to
+be diverting, often become vulgar--a word not too severe for things that
+are sometimes said and written by very good people who wish to be funny,
+and do not know how. For instance, there is no wit, but there is
+shocking ungentility, in a lady to speak of taking a "snooze" instead of
+a nap,--in calling pantaloons "pants," or gentlemen "gents,"--in saying
+of a man whose dress is getting old that he looks "seedy,"--and in
+alluding to an amusing anecdote, or a diverting incident, to say that it
+is "rich." All slang words are detestable from the lips of ladies.
+
+We are always sorry to hear a young lady use such a word as "polking"
+when she tells of having been engaged in a certain dance too fashionable
+not long since; but happily, now it is fast going out, and almost
+banished from the best society. To her honour be it remembered, Queen
+Victoria has prohibited the polka being danced in her presence. How can
+a genteel girl bring herself to say, "Last night I was polking with Mr.
+Bell," or "Mr. Cope came and asked me to polk with him." Its coarse and
+ill-sounding name is worthy of the dance.
+
+If you own a lap-dog or poodle, recollect that however charming it may
+be to yourself, others may regard it as an annoyance; therefore, try to
+do without it when you are in the parlour of a house that is not your
+own, and when the company present does not consist entirely of your own
+family. All but their infatuated mistresses soon become very tired of
+the society of these animals. Poodles are generally peevish, whining,
+and snappish, prone to get under chairs and bite at feet, and to writhe
+about the skirts of dresses. Their faces often look old, withered,
+cross, and blear-eyed, seeming as if constantly troubled by the hair
+that dangles uncomfortably in their eyes; and they are seldom healthy.
+They have none of the honest, grateful, affectionate character common to
+dogs of larger growth. Though they often inspire their mistress with a
+love that becomes such a mania as to weaken her affection for all other
+things, they seldom make friends of any one else. We include what is
+called a King Charles's dog in the same category. For instance
+Jip--whose character is as true to nature, and as admirably drawn as
+that of Dora herself.
+
+Should a visiter come in to see one of the boarders who may be sitting
+near you, change your place, and take a seat in a distant part of the
+room. It is ill-manners to remain, and listen to the conversation. It is
+best for the visited lady to meet her friend as soon as she sees her
+enter the room, and conduct her to a sofa or ottoman where they can
+enjoy their talk without danger of being overheard. After the visiter is
+gone, do not enquire her name of the friend she has just called on.
+
+It is _not_ well to call at the same time on two ladies both living at
+the same house, (so as to make one visit suffice for both,) unless they
+are intimate friends of each other, or unless your stay in the city will
+be very short. If one is taciturn, and the other conversable, she that
+is silent may imagine herself neglected, by the dialogue being chiefly
+between those who can talk fluently, as it certainly will be, if the
+third person only speaks when spoken to, and replies in monosyllables.
+
+It is better to make a separate visit to each lady, on different days.
+There is another way, and a very good one. For instance, should Mrs.
+Canning wish to call on Mrs. Austin and Miss Lovel, both inmates of the
+same house, let her, when shown into the parlour, send up her name to
+Mrs. Austin first. When that lady comes down, and she and her friend
+have conversed about as long as the usual term of a morning call, Mrs.
+Canning will rise to depart, and when Mrs. Austin has seen her to the
+parlour door, Mrs. C. may say, "I will detain you no longer," or "I will
+encroach no longer on your time, but I am going now to send up for Miss
+Lovel."
+
+Mrs. Austin then takes her leave, and goes up-stairs, (_her_ part of the
+visit being over;) while Mrs. Canning returns to her seat in the
+parlour, having first rung the bell, and sent for Miss Lovel.
+
+In this manner, two distinct visits may be politely made to two ladies
+living in the same hotel--and it is very customary.
+
+Any lady that lives at a hotel can in some degree make a return for the
+civilities received from private families, by occasionally inviting a
+friend to dine or take tea with her. These dinners or teas are of course
+always charged in her bill. If she expects a friend, she will previously
+send to apprize the head-waiter that she wishes him to reserve a seat
+next to her own, for a lady. She should give her arm to her guest, in
+going to the table.
+
+If a friend chances to call, whom she really wishes to stay and dine or
+drink tea with her, she should ask her guest to take off her bonnet as
+soon as she comes in; giving her the invitation at once, and not
+delaying it till the visiter is about taking her leave.
+
+Even in a private house, such extemporaneous invitations (which if
+evidently sincere, are always gratifying, whether accepted or not)
+should be given _immediately_, as soon as the hostess meets her guest.
+There will then be time to order any improvement in the table
+arrangements that may be deemed necessary.
+
+We often have occasion to repeat, that whatever is done at all, should
+be done well.
+
+If, while in the parlour of the hotel, you wish to know if a person you
+are desirous of seeing is staying at the house, the easiest way to
+obtain the information, is not to enquire round of the ladies present,
+but to ring the bell, and desire the waiter to go and ask at the office.
+You can then send a message accordingly. It should be a card with a
+message pencilled on it.
+
+By sending to the office you may learn where all the public places in
+the city and its environs are to be found. Also, where the churches are
+situated.
+
+You may be sure that the most fashionable shops are in the main street.
+
+At any stationer's, you can buy a small pocket-map of the city, folded
+in a little morocco case. This will be an almost indispensable aid in
+finding your way. In Philadelphia, the arrangement of the long streets
+that run east and west from the Delaware to the Schuylkill, has given
+occasion to the old rhyme of
+
+    Market, Arch, Race and Vine,
+    Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce and Pine.
+
+If when about to ascend the stairs, you find that a gentleman is going
+up at the same time, draw back and make a sign for him to precede you.
+He will bow, and pass on before you. When coming down, do the same, that
+the gentleman may descend in advance of you.
+
+A very polished man will not wait for a signal from the lady, but will
+bow and run up-stairs, passing her as a thing of course.
+
+Do not idly detain a parlour newspaper on your lap, for half an hour or
+more, after you have done reading it. As soon as you have read all you
+want, replace it on the table, or transfer it to another lady, who may
+wish to read it, and who may have been waiting anxiously to see you lay
+it out of your hand. You have no right to monopolize any thing that is
+intended for the convenience of the whole company.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[9] Nevertheless, it is not good manners to make any remark (even to a
+friend) on their coming to breakfast late or early. It is no concern of
+yours, and they have reasons of their own, undoubtedly.
+
+[10] Americans never really say _niggers_, though constantly accused of
+doing so by their British cousins. The word _negor_ we have heard, but
+_nigger_ never.
+
+[11] It is customary with professional or public musicians, when in
+private company, to volunteer a song or a piece; knowing that, out of
+delicacy, no one will _ask_ them to give a gratuitous specimen of the
+art by which they live. This is polite and proper. It is always duly
+appreciated, and adds to the popularity of the performer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+HOTEL DINNER.
+
+
+In dressing for a hotel dinner, it is not well to adopt a full evening
+costume, and to appear as if attired for a ball; for instance, with a
+coloured velvet gown; or one of a splendid brocade; or a transparent
+gauze material over a satin; or with short sleeves and bare neck in cold
+weather; or with flowers or jewels in the hair. Such costumes should be
+reserved for evening parties. If worn at the table d'hôte, it may be
+suspected you have no other place in which to display them. Your dress
+need not be more showy than you would wear when dining at a private
+house, particularly if you are a permanent boarder. There is no place
+where dress escapes with less scrutiny than at a great hotel. Still, it
+is bad taste to go to the dinner-table in ungenteel and unbecoming
+habiliments--such as a figured or party-coloured mousseline-de-laine, a
+thing which always has the effect of calico, and, like calico, gives an
+unlady-like look even to the most decided lady. In fact, what is it but
+woollen calico? And if it is accompanied by a very thin, flimsy collar,
+so small and narrow as to be scarcely visible, the neck and face will
+look dingy and ill-coloured for want of sufficient white to relieve it.
+No collar at all, but merely a coloured silk handkerchief, or a
+coloured dress, coming immediately against the neck, is disfiguring to
+all women, and men too.
+
+Most American ladies beyond the age of thirty-five, look better in caps
+than without them, even if their hair shows no signs of middle age.
+Before that time, the females of our country begin to fade, evincing one
+effect of torrid summers and frozen winters. A tasteful and simply
+elegant cap (not one that is elaborate in its design, and loaded with
+ornament,) imparts a grace and softness to a faded face, and renders
+less conspicuous the inroads of time. A decidedly old lady, persisting
+in going with her head uncovered, is a pitiable object, and scarcely
+looks respectable. Worse still, when she takes to an auburn wig. Gray
+hair is seldom unbecoming to a man. To a woman it gives a masculine
+aspect, especially if worn without a cap; and if there is an attempt at
+long gray locks, or ringlets, the effect is strange, wild and ghastly.
+It is far more becoming for an elderly lady to give a dark shade to her
+temples, and the upper part of her forehead, by a plain, simple, and
+becoming dark-coloured braid, not intended to pass as her natural hair,
+(for it never does,) but merely that the face should be set off by a due
+proportion of shadow,--and not be all light or lightish. If a decidedly
+old lady prefers wearing her own gray hair, let her part it smoothly on
+her forehead, but make no attempt at curls, and be sure to add a cap to
+it. An elderly female should, as we have said, _always_ wear a cap; and
+her cap should have tabs or broad strings to tie under her chin. There
+is no use or beauty in a lady looking older than is necessary, by
+wearing a short-eared or round-eared cap, set back from her head, and
+exposing all her cheeks even beyond her ears, with the crease in her
+chin, and the deep furrows or wrinkles on each side of her neck--all
+which can be concealed by bringing forward the bow of her cap tabs.
+
+Let all ladies, old and young, avoid having their caps trimmed with
+ribbons or flowers of what are called high-colours; deep, heavy pinks
+and blues, and reddish lilacs. These colours vulgarize every thing they
+are intended to decorate. High-coloured ribbons, flowered or figured,
+are decidedly vulgar.
+
+A profusion of jewels at a public table is in very bad taste,
+particularly if the jewellery is palpably false--for instance, a large
+brooch with great mock diamonds, or a string of wax beads meant for
+pearls. Still worse, glass things imitating topazes or garnets--or two
+or three gilt bracelets on one arm. A _large_ imitation gem always
+betrays its real quality by its size.
+
+Endeavour to make your arrangements so as to be dressed for dinner, and
+seated in the ladies' drawing-room, about ten or fifteen minutes before
+the dining-hour, that you may be ready to go in with the rest of the
+company.
+
+If you and your party are strangers, recently arrived, do not at once
+take the lead, and walk up to the head of the table, regardless of
+dislodging and causing inconvenience among the regular boarders, to whom
+those seats have been allotted. But desire a servant to show you a
+place. The head-waiter is usually at hand to arrange seats for the
+strangers, and he will attend to you. Persons not accustomed to hotels,
+frequently show a great craving for the seats near the head of the
+table. This is foolish. There are no places of honour; neither are the
+eatables better at one part of the table than another.
+
+Nobody "sits below the salt." And every one has an equal chance of
+obtaining a share of the nicest articles on the table. What is most
+desirable is to have a seat in the vicinity of agreeable people, and you
+will more frequently find them about the middle, or lower end of the
+table, than at the top--that being the place usually most coveted by the
+least genteel of the guests. We have seen the Chief Magistrate of the
+Union, "the ruler of millions," simply take a seat near the door, at the
+lower end of a hotel-table, in Philadelphia, having arrived
+unexpectedly.
+
+As we have said before, we perceive not the propriety or the convenience
+of a large party of strangers, on entering in a body, pertinaciously
+making their way to the upper end of the table, with a determination to
+obtain seats all in a row; as if the whole row together could join in
+the same conversation, or even _see_ each other, when they sit on the
+same side.
+
+In seating yourself, look down for a moment to see if you have placed
+the foot of your chair on the dress of the lady sitting next to you; and
+if you have done so, remove it immediately, that her dress may be in no
+danger of tearing when she attempts to rise. Sit close to the table,
+but never lean your elbows upon it. To sit far from it, and reach out
+distantly, is very awkward. Having unfolded your napkin, secure it to
+your belt with a pin, to prevent its slipping down from your lap, and
+falling under the table. This may be done so that the pinning will not
+be perceptible. Bring with you a spare pin or two for this purpose,--or
+keep always a pincushion in your pocket. It is much better than to incur
+the risk of getting your dress greased or stained by the napkin
+deserting your lap. If such accidents _should_ happen, pass them over
+slightly, and do not lose your temper. For the present, wipe the spot
+with your napkin, and dip the corner in water, and rub it lightly over
+the grease-mark. When dinner is over, you can finish repairing the
+injury in your own room. The coloured waiters are generally very clever
+at removing grease-spots from dresses. One of them will do it for you
+after dinner. The stain of wine or fruit may in most cases be taken out
+of a washable article by laying it immediately in cold water.
+
+To eat in gloves or mittens was always foolish; fortunately it is no
+longer fashionable; but greatly the contrary.
+
+Refrain from loud talking, or loud laughing. Young ladies truly genteel
+are never conspicuously noisy at a public table, or anywhere else. Still
+more carefully refrain from whispering, or exchanging significant
+glances. Whispers are always overheard, (even when the vulgar precaution
+is taken of screening your mouth with your hand,) and glances are
+always observed.[12] Joggings, nudgings, pinchings, sleeve-pullings,
+&c. are excessively unlady-like, and shamefully impudent when (as is
+often the case) the eye of the jogger is fixed upon the object of the
+jog. To put up an eye-glass at the face of a stranger, is very rude. So
+it is to make remarks in French.
+
+When eating fish, first remove the bones carefully, and lay them on the
+edge of your plate. Then with your fork in your right hand, (the concave
+or hollow side held uppermost,) and a small piece of bread in your left,
+take up the flakes of fish. Servants, and all other persons, should be
+taught that the butter-sauce should not be _poured over_ the fish, but
+put on one side of the plate, that the eater may use it profusely or
+sparingly, according to taste, and be enabled to mix it conveniently
+with the sauce from the fish-castors. Pouring butter-sauce _over_ any
+thing is now ungenteel.
+
+Do not attempt removing a cover from a dish, that you may help yourself
+before the rest of the company. Leave all that to the waiters. Tell them
+what you want in a distinct, but not in a loud, conspicuous voice. In
+asking a servant to bring you a thing, add not the useless and senseless
+words "_will_ you?" for instance, "Bring me the bread, will you?"--"Give
+me some water, will you?" Of course he will. Has he the option of
+refusing? How you would be startled were he to answer, "_I will not_."
+It is well always to say, even to servants, "I will thank you for the
+bread,--or the water." If you are a stranger in the house, ask, at the
+beginning, the servant who waits on you to tell you his name. This may
+save you some inconvenience. Where servants are numerous, they should
+always go by their surnames, and be called Wilson, Jackson, Thomson, or
+whatever it may be. This will prevent the confusion arising from half a
+dozen Johns, or as many Williams.
+
+If the waiters are attentive, and in sufficient number, you will have,
+at a _good_ hotel, little or no occasion to help yourself to any thing.
+Do not, under any circumstances, reach across the table, or rise on your
+feet to get at any particular dish you may want. Trouble no one of the
+company; but wait till you see a servant at hand. No man who is a
+gentleman ever puts the ladies in requisition to help him at table.
+
+It is not customary at hotels for ladies to be assiduous in watching and
+supplying the plates of gentlemen. They can take care of themselves.
+
+If in turning to speak to a waiter, you find him in the act of serving
+some one else, say, "_When you are at leisure_, I will thank you for
+some water,"--or whatever you may want.
+
+It is selfish to be continually sending out of the room the man who
+waits near you, for the purpose of bringing extra things for yourself.
+Try to be satisfied with what you find on the table, and recollect that
+you are depriving others of his services, while you are dispatching him
+back and forward on errands to the kitchen.
+
+Many persons hold silver forks awkwardly, as if not accustomed to them.
+It is fashionable to use your knife only while cutting up the food small
+enough to be eaten with the fork alone. While cutting, keep the fork in
+your left hand, the hollow or concave side downward, the fork in a very
+slanting position, and your fore-finger extended far down upon its
+handle. When you have done cutting up what you are going to eat, lay
+aside your knife, transfer the fork to your right hand, and take a small
+piece of bread in your left. If eating any thing soft, use your silver
+fork somewhat as a spoon, turning up the hollow side that the cavity may
+hold the food. If engaged in talking, do not, meanwhile, hold your fork
+bolt upright, but incline it downward, so as to be nearly on a level
+with your plate. Remember, always, to keep your own knife, fork, and
+spoon out of the dishes. It is an insult to the company, and a disgrace
+to yourself, to dip into a dish any thing that has been even for a
+moment in your mouth. To take butter or salt with your own knife is an
+abomination. There is always a butter-knife and a salt-spoon. It is
+nearly as bad to take a lump of sugar with your fingers.
+
+In eating bread at dinner, break off little bits, instead of putting the
+whole piece to your mouth and biting at it.
+
+No lady looks worse than when gnawing a bone, even of game or poultry.
+Few _ladies_ do it. In fact, nothing should be sucked or gnawed in
+public; neither corn bitten off from the cob, nor melon nibbled from
+the rind.[13] It is very ungraceful to eat an orange at table, unless,
+having cut a bit off the top, you eat the inside with a
+tea-spoon--otherwise reserve it for the privacy of your own room. Always
+pare apples and peaches; and crack no nuts with your teeth. In eating
+cherries, put your half-closed hand before your mouth to receive the
+stones; then lay them on one side of your plate. To spit out the stones
+one at a time as you proceed with the cherries is very ungenteel. Get
+rid of plumb-stones in the same manner.
+
+Do not eat incongruous and unsuitable things from the same plate,
+telling the waiter that "he need not change it, as it will do very
+well." The washing of a plate (more or less) is no object whatever in a
+large establishment, and it is expected that the guests will have clean
+ones very frequently.
+
+It is an affectation of ultra-fashion to eat pie with a fork, and has a
+very awkward and inconvenient look. Cut it up first with your knife and
+fork both; then proceed to eat it with the fork in your right hand.
+
+Much of this determined fork-exercise may be considered foolish. But it
+is fashionable.
+
+If a lady wishes to eat lobster, let her request the waiter that attends
+her, to extract a portion of it from the shell, and bring it to her on a
+clean plate--also to place a castor near her.
+
+Novices in lobster sometimes eat it simply with salt, or with vinegar
+only, or with black pepper. This betrays great ignorance of the article.
+To prepare it according to the usual custom,--cut up, very small, the
+pieces of lobster, and on another plate make the dressing. First, mash
+together some hard-boiled yolk of egg, and some of the red coral of the
+lobster, with a little salt and cayenne. Mix in, with a fork, mustard to
+your taste; and then a liberal allowance of salad-oil, finishing with
+vinegar. Transfer the bits of lobster to the plate that has the
+dressing, and combine the whole with a fork. Lettuce salad is dressed in
+the same manner.
+
+At a public table, a lady should never volunteer to dress salad for
+others of the company. Neither should she cut up a pie, and help it
+round. These things ought only to be done by a gentleman, or a servant.
+
+If a gentleman with whom you are acquainted has dressed a salad, and
+offers the plate to you, take what you want, and immediately return to
+him the remainder; and do not pass it on to persons in your vicinity. It
+is _his_ privilege, and not _yours_ to offer it to others, as he has had
+the trouble of dressing it. And it is just that he should have a portion
+of it for himself, which will not be the case if you officiously hand it
+about to people around you. Leave it to him to dispose of as he pleases.
+
+It was formerly considered ill-manners to refuse to take wine with a
+gentleman. Now that the fortunate increase of temperance has induced so
+many persons to abjure, entirely, the use of all liquors, it is no
+longer an offence to decline these invitations. If you have no
+conscientious scruples, and if you are acquainted with the gentleman, or
+have been introduced to him, (not else,) you may comply with his
+civility, and when both glasses are filled, look at him, bow your head,
+and taste the wine. If you are placed between a lady and gentleman who
+are taking wine together, lean back a little that they may see each
+other's faces. It is not customary, in America, for a lady to empty her
+glass,--or indeed, at a hotel, or boarding-house, to take wine with the
+same gentleman after the first day. Next time he asks, politely refuse,
+simply desiring him to excuse you. If he is a true gentleman, he will
+regard your refusal in its proper light, and not persist. We have often,
+at a public table, regretted to see ladies in the daily practice of
+taking wine with the same gentleman as often as invited. This "daily
+practice" is improper, indelicate, and we will say mean--for wine is
+expensive, and no lady should every day place herself under the same
+obligation to the same gentleman, even for a single glass. He will not
+respect her the more for doing so. On no consideration let any lady be
+persuaded to take _two_ glasses of champagne. It is more than the head
+of an _American_ female can bear. And she may rest assured that (though
+unconscious of it herself) all present will find her cheeks flushing,
+her eyes twinkling, her tongue unusually voluble, her talk loud and
+silly, and her laugh incessant. Champagne is very insidious; and two
+glasses may throw her into this pitiable condition.
+
+If a stranger whom you do not know, and to whom you have had no
+introduction, takes the liberty of asking you to drink wine with him,
+refuse at once, positively and coldly, to prove that you consider it an
+unwarrantable freedom. And so it is.
+
+If you are helped to any thing whose appearance you do not like, or in
+which you are disappointed when you taste it, you, of course, at a hotel
+table, are not obliged to eat it. Merely leave it on your plate, without
+audibly giving the reason; and then, in a low voice, desire the waiter
+to bring you something else. It is well, while at table, to avoid any
+discussion of the demerits of the dishes. On the other hand, you may
+praise them as much as you please.
+
+In refusing to be helped to any particular thing, never give as a reason
+that "you are afraid of it," or "that it will disagree with you." It is
+sufficient simply to _refuse_; and then no one has a right to ask why?
+While at table, all allusions to dyspepsia, indigestion, or any other
+disorders of the stomach, are vulgar and disgusting. The word "stomach"
+should never be uttered at any table, or indeed anywhere else, except to
+your physician, or in a private conversation with a female friend
+interested in your health. It is a disagreeable word, (and so are all
+its associations,) and should never be mentioned in public to "ears
+polite." Also, make no remarks on what is eaten by persons near you,
+(except they are children, and under your own care,) such as its being
+unwholesome, indigestible, feverish, or in any way improper. It is no
+business of yours; and besides, you are not to judge of others by
+yourself. No two constitutions are alike, and what is very bad for
+_you_, may be perfectly innoxious to others. If persons are with you in
+whom you are much interested, and over whom you have influence, and they
+seem inclined to eat what is bad for them, refrain from checking them in
+presence of strangers. Above all, do not open your eyes, and hold up
+your hands, and exclaim against their folly, and want of self-control,
+and predict their certain sufferings from that cause. But if you _must_
+remonstrate, wait till you have quitted the table, and find yourself
+alone with the delinquent.
+
+Never, while at table, (whether in public or private,) allow yourself to
+talk on painful or disgusting subjects. Avoid all discussions of
+sicknesses, sores, surgical operations, dreadful accidents, shocking
+cruelties, or horrible punishments. A love of such topics, evinces a
+coarse and unfeminine mind. It is rude in gentlemen at any time to
+introduce them before ladies; and a polished man never does so. The
+conversation at table should be as cheerful and pleasant as possible.
+Political and sectarian controversies ought to have no place there.
+Shakspeare truly says, "Unquiet meals make ill digestion."
+
+Avoid the discussion at table of private affairs; either your own, or
+those of other people. Remember that "servants have ears," and
+frequently much more quickness of comprehension and retentiveness of
+memory than is generally supposed. So have children.
+
+Abstain from picking your teeth at table. Notwithstanding that custom
+has allowed this practice in Europe, (even in fashionable society,) it
+is still a very disagreeable one, and to delicate spectators absolutely
+sickening to behold. Delay it till you are alone, and till you can
+indulge in it without witnesses. We know that it is quite possible to go
+on through a long life, and to have clean teeth, without ever once
+having been _seen_ to pick them; and yet those teeth are really picked
+after every meal.
+
+Should you chance to be extremely incommoded by some extraneous
+substance that has gotten between your teeth, you can remove it
+unperceived, by holding up your napkin or handkerchief before your
+mouth, so as effectually to conceal the process. When you take any thing
+out of your teeth, do not make the persons who are near you sick, by
+laying the disgusting particle on the side of your plate; but conceal it
+immediately. Still, nothing but "sheer necessity" can excuse any
+teeth-picking at table.
+
+We have seen a young _lady_, at a very fashionable house in one of our
+great cities, pull a dish of stewed oysters close to her, and with a
+table-spoon fish out and eat the oysters one at a time; audibly sipping
+up their liquor from the said dish.
+
+We have seen a young _gentleman_ lift his plate of soup in both hands,
+hold it to his mouth and drink, or rather lap it up. This was at no less
+a place than Niagara.
+
+We have heard of a well-dressed stranger at a great hotel in Boston, who
+having used his own knife for the butter, flew into a violent passion
+with the waiter for respectfully pointing out to him the silver
+butter-knife. Swearing that the knife he had been putting in his mouth
+was quite good enough, afterward, for any butter in the world, the
+_gentleman_ flung the silver knife across the table, and broke it
+against the wall. For this exploit he had to pay five dollars.
+
+A man that habitually rises on his feet to reach across the table for a
+dish, and pulls it to himself, instead of desiring the waiter to bring
+it to him, is unworthy the appellation of a gentleman. Ladies, of
+course, cannot be guilty of this abomination; but it is true that they
+sometimes extend their arms entirely too far, in trying to get at
+something which a servant would bring them if asked to do so.
+
+Some persons behave coarsely at a public table because they are
+ignorant, and know no better. Some (far less excusable) are rude because
+they are too selfish to put any restraint on their inclinations, or to
+care for the convenience of others.
+
+Some display, all the time, a vulgar determination to "get the full
+worth of their money." Some, who at a _private_ dinner-table would be
+the most polite people imaginable, lay aside their good manners in a
+_public_ dining-room; regarding a hotel as they would a tavern--a sort
+of Liberty Hall. And some are insolent by way of "showing their
+consequence,"--having, in reality, mixed so little with _true_ people of
+consequence, as not to be aware that persons of high station are, with
+few exceptions, entirely free from the assumption of undue importance.
+
+Servants are often very shrewd observers, and they always say that real
+gentlefolks "never take airs." Neither they do.
+
+When the finger-glasses are sent round, dip a clean corner of your
+napkin into the water, and wet round your lips with it, but omit the
+disgusting foreign fashion of taking water into your mouth, rinsing and
+gurgling it round, and then spitting it back into the glass. Wait till
+you can give your mouth a regular and efficient washing up-stairs. Dip
+your fingers into the glass, rub them with the slice of lemon, or the
+orange-leaf that may be floating on the surface, and then wipe them on
+the napkin. We have heard of a man who saw finger-glasses for the first
+time in his life, when dining at one of the New York hotels. A slice of
+lemon floating on the top, he took up the bowl and drank the water,
+exclaiming as he set it down--"Well! if this isn't the poorest lemonade
+I ever tasted!"
+
+On quitting the table, it is not necessary to fold up your napkin.
+Merely lay it on the table near your plate. The napkins will be
+immediately collected by the servants, carried to the laundry, and
+thrown at once into tubs of water, to take out the stains.
+
+When dinner is over, and you see that nearly all the company, except two
+or three, have left the table, it is not well to be one of that two or
+three, and to remain to an indefinite period, loitering over the last
+pickings of a plate of nuts--nut-picking being always a tedious
+business. The waiters are, by this time, very tired of standing, and
+they (like all other people) are entitled to some consideration of their
+comfort. Even the attraction of a beau drinking his wine beside her,
+ought not to induce a young lady to outstay all the company, with the
+pretext of being passionately fond of nuts. She may indulge this passion
+at any time by keeping a bag of them in her own room.
+
+The English travellers who visit America are often right in their
+remarks on many of our customs. And instead of resenting these remarks,
+we might profit by them, and reform.
+
+For instance, it is true that the generality of Americans eat too fast,
+for their own health, and the comfort of those about them; masticating
+their food very slightly, and not allowing themselves time enough to
+enjoy their meals. The French, however, eat faster still, and can
+dispatch a surprising quantity of food in less time than any people in
+the civilized world. If we pattern after either nation in the customs of
+the table, the _genteel_ English are far better models than most of
+their neighbours across the Channel. But the best class of Americans are
+unsurpassed in the essentials of all these observances. The English
+attach too much importance to ceremonies merely conventional, and for
+which there seems no motive but the ever-changing decrees of fashion.
+Yet, on going to England, let every American lady take care to make
+herself acquainted with these ceremonies; for her ignorance of them will
+find no quarter there--and she need not flatter herself that it will be
+passed over unnoticed.
+
+In most hotels it is not customary to have hot cakes or any warm dishes
+on the tea-table, except in cold weather. We think, in a summer
+afternoon, they can be easily dispensed with, and that ladies might be
+satisfied with sweet cakes, fruit, preserves, and other things more
+delicate, and more suited to the hour, than the hot preparations they
+sometimes call for; and which, by not seeing them on the table, they may
+be assured do not come within scope of the tea-arrangements. It is
+expecting too much to suppose the cook will be willing to mix
+batter-cakes and bake them, or to scorch over the fire with broiling or
+stewing relishes, in a warm summer evening--or even to make toast,
+except for an invalid. Also, every one should know that a substantial
+meal (including tea and coffee) can generally be had at the nine o'clock
+supper-table. In houses where there is no nine o'clock supper, the
+tea-table is set out with greater profusion and variety.
+
+At hotels, the interval between dinner and tea is usually short; the
+tea-hour being early, that the guests may have ample time to prepare for
+going to places of amusement. Yet there are ladies who, though spending
+all the evening at home, will remain sitting idly in the parlour till
+eight o'clock, (or later still,) keeping the table standing and servants
+waiting in attendance, that they may have a better appetite, and be able
+to make a heartier meal at their tea. This is selfish and inconsiderate,
+particularly as they might easily wait a little longer, and take their
+tea or coffee at the supper-table. Their appetites would then be still
+better. The servants certainly require rest, and should be exempt from
+all attendance in the ladies' eating-room, for an hour or two in the
+evening.
+
+No lady can remain long in the drawing-room talking to a gentleman
+after all the rest have retired for the night, without subjecting
+herself to remarks which it would greatly annoy her to hear--whether
+merited or not. Neither is it well for her to be seen continually
+sitting at the same window with the same gentleman.
+
+Ladies and gentlemen who wish to hold private dialogues, should not for
+that purpose monopolize a centre-table; thereby preventing persons who
+wish to read from availing themselves of the light of the chandelier
+above it. Lovers who have proper consideration, (a rare occurrence,)
+always sit as far as possible from the rest of the company, and so they
+should--unless they can bring themselves to join in general
+conversation. That is, if the lovership is real. In many cases the
+semblance is only assumed to produce effect, and the talk has really
+nothing secret or mysterious about it, and might just as well be uttered
+audibly.
+
+In making acquaintance with a stranger at a hotel, there is no
+impropriety (but quite the contrary) in enquiring of her from what place
+she comes. In introducing yourself give your name _audibly_; or what is
+still better, if you have a card about you, present that; and she should
+do the same in return. Before you enter into conversation on any subject
+connected with religion, it will be well to ask her to what church she
+belongs. This knowledge will guard you from indulging, inadvertently, in
+sectarian remarks which may be displeasing to her, besides producing a
+controversy which may be carried too far, and produce ill-feeling
+between the parties. We have known the mere question, "Have you been to
+church to-day?" when asked of a stranger at a Sunday dinner-table, bring
+on a dialogue of great asperity, and very annoying to the hearers. As it
+cannot possibly concern yourself whether the strangers at a hotel have
+been to church or not, or what church they have visited, omit
+catechising them at table on this or any other religious subject. We
+have never known a clergyman guilty of this solecism in good sense and
+good manners.
+
+When you give a gratuity to a servant--for instance, to the man who
+waits on you at table, or he that attends your room, or to the
+chambermaid or the errand-boy--give it at no regular time, but whenever
+you think proper, or find it convenient. It is injudicious to allow them
+to suppose that they are to do you no particular service without being
+immediately paid for it. It renders them mercenary, rapacious, and
+neglectful of other boarders who are less profuse; not reflecting that
+the servants are hired to wait on the company, and are paid wages for
+doing so, by the proprietor of the establishment, and that it is
+therefore their duty to him, and to his guests, to exert themselves so
+to give satisfaction. Still, it is right and customary to pay them extra
+for conveying your baggage up and down stairs when you are departing
+from the house or returning to it. Carrying heavy baggage is very hard
+work even for strong men. If you are a permanent boarder, and from
+ill-health require extra attendance, it is well to give a certain sum
+monthly to each of the servants who wait upon you; and then they will
+not expect any thing more, except on extraordinary occasions. And to
+each of them, separately, give the money with your own hand. In short,
+whatever you give to any one, (servants or others,) it is safest, when
+convenient, to bestow it in person. There will then be no mistakes, no
+forgettings, and no temptation to embezzlement.
+
+If you live in Philadelphia, you will find it very convenient, in most
+cases, to send messages by a note with a stamp on it, put into the
+city-post. There is a mail-bag and a letter-box at all hotels, and at
+most of the large boarding-houses. The errand-boy of the hotel carries
+parcels, and takes such messages as require an _immediate_ answer. For a
+distance of any consequence, he will expect from twelve to twenty-five
+cents. For little errands in the immediate neighbourhood, less will
+suffice. When a servant brings you small change, do not tell him to keep
+it. It is giving him the bad habit of expecting it always; and at times
+when you may have occasion, yourself, for that very change. It is the
+worst way of feeing them. On leaving the house, and at Christmas, it is
+customary to give a fee rather larger than usual, to the servants who
+have been your attendants. But as we have said before, give it with your
+own hands.
+
+It is ungenerous and most unjustifiable to bribe the servants to neglect
+other boarders, (whose place is near yours,) for the purpose of their
+bestowing on you a double share of attention. It is taking an undue
+advantage, which in the end will come out badly.
+
+All persons who go to hotels are not able to lavish large and frequent
+gratuities on the servants. But all, for the price they pay to the
+proprietor, are entitled to an ample share of attention from the
+domestics.
+
+It is very mean and unlady-like to gossip secretly with the servants,
+and question them about any of the other guests. Still worse, to repeat
+what they tell you, and give _them_ as authority. Treat them always with
+kindness and civility, but have no confidential and familiar intercourse
+with them. To those you know, it is but common civility to bid good
+morning every day. Coloured people you may always gratify by saying a
+few words to them, now and then, in passing. They value this little
+kindness, and will not presume upon it like those from "the old
+country," who, if treated familiarly, will frequently take liberties,
+and lose all respect for you. Elderly coloured people, (particularly in
+the South,) like much to be called "aunt" or "uncle;" and it degrades no
+white lady to please them by doing so.
+
+In all hotels, it is against the rule to take out of the ladies'
+drawing-room any books that may be placed there for the general
+convenience of the company, such as dictionaries, guide-books,
+directories, magazines, &c. If you borrow a file of newspapers from the
+reading-room, get done with them as soon as you can, lest they should be
+wanted there by the gentlemen; and as soon as you have finished, ring
+for a servant to carry them back.
+
+Be careful, in cold weather, always to shut the parlour-doors after
+you. If you think the room too warm, do not throw open either door or
+window, without first enquiring if it will cause inconvenience to any
+one present. It is a good practice to carry a pocket fan even in winter,
+in case you should chance to feel the heat more sensibly than any other
+lady in the room. If the heat of the grate causes you inconvenience,
+enquire if there is any objection to having the blower brought in and
+stood up before it. If not, ring the bell and order it.
+
+If you have an anthracite fire in your chamber, and wish to extinguish
+it on retiring for the night, take the tongs, and lifting off some of
+the largest coals from the top, lay them beneath the grate. Then, with
+the shut-tongs or the poker, make a deep hollow in the centre of the
+fire; raking it into two hills, one on each side, leaving a valley down
+in the middle. It will begin to blacken immediately, and go out in a few
+minutes. If you cannot do this yourself, ring for a servant.
+
+This is _the only way_ to put out an anthracite fire, whether in a grate
+or a stove.--There is no other. Try it.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[12] A whisperer usually betrays herself by unconsciously fixing her
+eyes on the person she is secretly talking of. If you wish to inform
+your neighbour that a distinguished person is present say softly, "Mr.
+C. is here, but do not look at him just now."
+
+[13] It is, however, customary in eating sweet potatoes of a large size,
+to break them in two, and taking a piece in your hand, to pierce down to
+the bottom with your fork, and then mix in some butter, continuing to
+hold it thus while eating it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+SHIP-BOARD.
+
+
+There are few places where the looks and manners of the company are more
+minutely scanned than on ship-board; and few where the agreeability of a
+lady will be more highly appreciated. There is little or no variety of
+objects to attract attention. The passengers are brought so closely into
+contact with each other, and confined to so small a neighbourhood, or
+rather so many neighbours are crowded into so small a space, that all
+their sayings and doings are noticed with unusual attention, by those
+who are well enough to regard any thing but themselves. Sea-sickness is
+a very selfish malady,--and no wonder that it is so. Fortunately it is
+less prevalent than formerly, thanks to the improvements in cabin-room,
+ventilation, lodging, food, and many other things connected with
+ocean-travelling. A lady who is not of a bilious or dyspeptic habit, and
+who has taken precautionary medicine a few days before commencing the
+voyage, frequently escapes sea-sickness altogether; or at least gets
+well after the first day or two.
+
+It is best not to be over-officious in offering your aid to the sick
+ladies, unless they are your intimate friends. The stewardess of a
+packet-ship is generally all-sufficient; and much more capable of
+attending to their wants than you can be. Sea-sickness renders its
+victims very querulous; and few like to be continually reminded of their
+condition by enquiries too often repeated of--"How do you find yourself
+now?" "Do you feel any better?" or, "Do you think you could not eat
+something?" To one very much prostrated by the effects of the
+sea-motion, the mere replying to these questions is an additional
+misery. Whatever sympathy you may feel, at the time, for those afflicted
+with the marine malady, remember that it is a disorder which never
+kills, but very frequently cures.
+
+If you are sick yourself, say as little about it as possible. And never
+allude to it at table, where you will receive little sympathy, and
+perhaps render yourself disgusting to all who hear you. At no time talk
+about it to gentlemen. Many foolish common-place sayings are uttered by
+ladies who attempt to describe the horrors of sea-sickness. For instance
+this--"I felt all the time as if I wished somebody to take me up, and
+throw me overboard." This is untrue--no human being ever really _did_
+prefer drowning to sea-sickness.
+
+When the ship is actually in danger, this malady is always frightened
+away; the feelings of the mind entirely overpowering those of the body.
+
+Try to avoid supposing that every fresh gale is a violent storm; but
+confide in the excellence of the ship, and the skill of its navigators.
+Yet, though not afraid yourself, remember that others may be so, and do
+not try to show your courage by indulging in undue gayety. Mirth is out
+of place when the sky is overcast with gloom, the wind blowing hard, and
+the waves "running mountains high," and foaming and roaring all round
+the vessel.
+
+If there is truly a violent tempest, and if the danger is real and
+imminent, trust to that Almighty Power who is with you always,--on the
+sea, and on the land; and silently and fervently implore his protection.
+
+No captain likes to be teazed with importunities concerning the probable
+length of the passage. You may be sure he will do all he can to make it
+as short as possible. In rough weather, refrain from asking, whenever
+you see him, "If there is any danger?" If there really is, he will
+certainly let you know it in time.
+
+Endeavour to live harmoniously with your fellow-passengers. Avoid such
+national allusions as may give offence to the foreigners. If you find
+that any of them are in the frequent practice of sneering at your own
+country, or speaking of it disrespectfully, repress your resentment,
+resort to no recrimination, but refrain from further conversation with
+that individual, and leave him to the gentlemen. If a female foreigner
+is in the habit of gratuitously abusing America, endeavour calmly to
+convince her that her ideas of your country are erroneous. If she will
+not be convinced, (as is most likely, if she is an _ungenteel_
+Englishwoman,) give up the attempt, and leave her to herself. If you
+have a taste for the ridiculous, you will regard her prejudices and the
+expression of them only as objects of amusement.
+
+Avoid all arguments with a woman of irritable disposition, lest you are
+drawn in yourself to defend your opinion too warmly. You will soon find
+whether or not you can convince her, or whether she is likely to
+convince you. And it is worse than useless for both to continue
+protracting the argument, when they know that the opinion of neither
+will be shaken. Also, it is foolish to keep on repeating the same ideas,
+with no change but in a few of the words.
+
+Long and turbulent discussions are peculiarly annoying on ship-board,
+particularly in rainy weather, when for the weary and pent-up audience,
+"there's no door to creep out."
+
+It is certainly advisable for every lady on ship-board to endeavour to
+make herself as agreeable as she can, and not to suppose that all her
+"whims and oddities" will be excused because she is suffering "the pains
+and penalties" of the sea, and is therefore not "a responsible being."
+If free from sickness, a lady may propose or promote many pleasant
+little amusements and occupations; such as playing children's games on
+deck, or taking a part in chess, chequers, and backgammon in the cabin.
+Ladies sometimes form a regular little coterie, for assembling at
+certain hours, and employing themselves in knitting, bead-work,
+light-sewing, &c. while a gentleman reads aloud to them in some
+entertaining book. In the evening, vocal concerts will be an agreeable
+variety, as there are always some persons on board who can sing. And
+when the weather is fine, and the ship steadily laying her course, a
+moonlight dance on deck is delightful.
+
+A young lady should improve the opportunity of learning the names of the
+principal parts of the ship. It is a silly boast at the end of the
+voyage, (and yet we have heard such boasts,) to say that you do not know
+the fore-mast from the main-mast; and that you have no idea where the
+mizen-mast is, much less the bow-sprit. And even if a fair damsel should
+be able to distinguish the fore-topsail from the jib, and to know even
+the flying-jib, and have learnt the difference between the compass and
+the quadrant, and the log-line and the lead-line, we opine that "the
+gentlemen" will think none the worse of her; to say nothing of the
+satisfaction it will afford herself to listen with some comprehension to
+talk concerning the ship, and to read understandingly a few of the
+numerous excellent novels that treat of "life on the ocean wave."
+
+If you have, unfortunately, the rude and unamiable habit of laughing
+whenever you see any one get a fall, leave it off when on
+ship-board,--where falls are of continual occurrence from the rolling of
+the vessel, and the steepness of the stairs. We never could tell why a
+fall, even on the ice, should be regarded as a subject of mirth, when
+the chance is that it may produce a serious hurt, and is always attended
+with some pain or some annoyance at least. Low-bred women always say
+they cannot help laughing at such sights. We think _ladies_ ought always
+to help it, and hasten at once to the relief of the sufferer, to
+ascertain if they are hurt.
+
+Be washed and dressed _neatly_ every day. This can generally be managed
+with the assistance of the female servants--even if you _are_ sick.
+
+A piano never sounds well on ship-board--the cabins are too small, and
+the ceilings too low. To the sick and nervous, (and all who are sea-sick
+become _very_ nervous,) this instrument is peculiarly annoying.
+Therefore be kind enough to spare them the annoyance. You can practise
+when the weather is fine; and the invalids are on deck. Pianos have been
+abolished in many of the finest ships. Such instruments as can be
+carried on deck, and played in the open air, are, on the contrary, very
+delightful at sea, when in the hands of good performers--particularly on
+a moonlight evening.
+
+In going to England, take with you no American reprints of English
+books, unless you intend leaving them on board the ship. If you attempt
+to land them, they will be seized at the custom-house. American books by
+American authors are _not_ prohibited.
+
+Make no attempt to smuggle any thing. You may be detected and disgraced.
+The risk is too great, and the advantage too little.
+
+When you leave your state-room to sit in the ladies' cabin, do not fall
+to relating the particulars of your sickness, or complaining of the
+smallness of your apartment, the rolling of the ship, or the roughness
+of the waves. These inconveniences are unavoidable, and must always be
+expected in a sea-voyage; and talking about them too much seems to
+magnify their evils.
+
+If there is any deficiency in accommodations or attentions, either try
+as well as you can to do without them, or in a kind and considerate
+manner endeavour to obtain them of the servants, if not too
+inconvenient, or against the ship's regulations.
+
+It is very inconsiderate to have things cooked at luncheon time
+purposely for yourself. Ladies who are quite well will sometimes order
+baked apples, stewed prunes, buttered toast, arrow-root, cups of tea or
+coffee, &c.,--notwithstanding that the lunch-table is always profusely
+spread with a variety of cold articles; and that when dinner is cooking
+at the same time, the small size of the kitchen renders any extra
+preparations very inconvenient to the preparers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+LETTERS.
+
+
+The practice of enclosing letters in envelopes is now universal;
+particularly as when the letter is single no additional postage is
+charged for the cover. The postage now is in almost every instance
+pre-paid, it being but three cents when paid by the writer, and five if
+left to the receiver. Therefore, none but very poor or very mean people
+send unpaid letters. Letter-stamps for the United States post should be
+kept in a little box on your writing-table. You can get them always by
+sending to the post-office--from a dollar's worth or more, down to fifty
+or twenty-five cents' worth, at a time. In a second box, keep stamps for
+the city or penny post, which transmits notes from one part of the town
+to another. And in a third, stamps to go on the covers of newspapers.
+
+Sealing with wax is found to be very insecure for letters that are
+carried by steamers into warm climates--the wax melting with the heat,
+and sticking the letters to each other, so that they cannot be separated
+without tearing. Wafers are better.
+
+It would be very convenient to use the post-office stamp as a seal, but
+the clerks in that establishment charge extra postage for the trouble of
+turning the letter to mark the stamp. This subjects the receiver to the
+payment of two additional cents.
+
+In writing upon business exclusively your own, for instance to make a
+request, to ask for information, to petition for a favour, or to solicit
+an autograph, it is but right not only to pay the postage of your own
+letter, but to enclose a stamp for the answer. This is always done by
+really polite and considerate people. You have no right, when the
+benefit is entirely your own, to cause any extra expense to the receiver
+of the letter--not even the cost of three cents to pay the postage back
+again. It is enough to tax their time by requiring them to write to you
+and send off the reply. Also, in corresponding with a relative, or very
+intimate friend, to whom even a small expense is of more importance than
+to yourself, you may enclose a stamp for the answer. Do so always in
+writing to poor people. Be careful not to allow yourself to get entirely
+out of post-office stamps. Replenish your stock in time. If the gum on
+the back seems too weak, go over it afresh with that excellent cement,
+"Perpetual Paste." Embossed or bordered envelopes are not often used
+except in notes of ceremony--or when the acquaintance is slight. The
+same with ornamented note-paper. Intimate friends and relatives use
+paper that is handsome, but plain. Letters of business are generally
+enclosed in yellow or buff-coloured envelopes. Some of these yellow
+envelopes are large enough to contain a folio sheet when folded. Notes
+_not_ to be sent by post, are usually sealed with wax--the seal very
+small. But a _small_ wafer is admissible--a white one looks best for a
+note. In folding your note or letter, see that it is not too large to go
+into the envelope. It is customary to write the direction on the
+envelope only. Nevertheless, if the letter is to go a long distance by
+post, the envelope may be worn off, or torn off accidentally, or get so
+damaged in the letter-bag as to be rendered illegible. The surest and
+safest way is to put the address on the letter also; or if the sheet is
+full, to find a corner for the direction, either at the beginning or
+end.
+
+We have seen no _good_ letter-paper at less price than twenty-five cents
+per quire; and for that it ought to be _very_ good. If of lower cost,
+you may find it soft and fuzzy, so that the pen will not move freely,
+(the nib wearing out directly,) or so thin that you cannot write on both
+sides of the sheet. In paper, as in most other things, the best is the
+cheapest. If the tint is bluish, the writing will not be so legible as
+on a pure white. The surface should be smooth and glossy. For letter
+writing _ruled_ paper is rarely used, except by children. In writing for
+the press, no other is so convenient. A page of ruled lines to slip
+beneath, is indispensable to those who cannot otherwise write straight.
+They are to be had for a few cents at every stationer's. It is well to
+get three different sizes. If you write a small hand, the lines should
+be closer together than if your writing is large. If you are addressing
+a friend and have much to say, and expect to fill the sheet, begin very
+near the top of the first page. But if your letter is to be a short one,
+commence lower down, several inches from the top. If a _very_ short
+letter of only a few lines, begin but a little above the middle of the
+page. Crossing a letter all over with transverse lines is obsolete. It
+is intolerable to read, and there is no excuse for it now, when postage
+is so low, and every body pays their own.
+
+Write the date near the right-hand side of the first page, and place it
+about two lines higher than the two or three words of greeting or
+accosting with which letters usually commence. Begin the first sentence
+a little below those words, and farther toward the right than the lines
+that are to follow. It is well in dating _every_ letter to give always
+your exact residence--that is, not only the town you live in, but the
+number and street. If your correspondent has had _but one_ notification
+of your present place of abode, she may have forgotten the number, and
+even the street. Your letter containing it may not be at hand as a
+reference, and the answer may, in consequence, be misdirected--or
+directed in so vague a manner that it will never reach you. We have
+known much inconvenience (and indeed loss) ensue from not specifying
+with the date of _each_ letter the exact dwelling-place of the writer.
+But if it is _always_ indicated at the top of _every one_, a reference
+to _any_ one of your letters will furnish your proper address. If you
+are in the country, where there are no streets or numbered houses, give
+the name of the estate and that of the nearest post-town; also the
+county and state. All this will occupy a long line, but you will find
+the advantage. If your letter fills more than one sheet, number each
+page. Should you have no envelope, leave, on the inside of the third
+page, two blank spaces where the seal is to come. These spaces should be
+left rather too large than too small. Lest you should tear the letter in
+_breaking_ it open, it is best to _cut_ round the seal. We have seen
+letters that were actually illegible from the paleness of the ink. If
+you write from your own house this is inexcusable, as you ought always
+to be _well_ supplied with that indispensable article; and in a city you
+can easily send to a stationer's and buy it. It is still better to make
+it yourself; than which nothing is more easy. The following receipt _we
+know, by experience, to be superlative_. Try it.
+
+Buy at a druggist's four ounces of the best blue Aleppo nut-galls; half
+an ounce of green copperas; and half an ounce of clean, white
+gum-arabic. These three articles must be pulverized in a mortar. Put
+them into a large, clean, white-ware pitcher, and pour on a quart of
+boiling water. Stir the whole with a stick that will reach to the
+bottom, and set the pitcher in a warm place; covering it lightly with a
+folded newspaper. In about an hour, stir it again very hard; and repeat
+the stirring several times during the day. Let it remain in the pitcher
+several days, or a week, till it becomes an excellent black; the
+blackening will be accelerated by keeping the pitcher in the sun; for
+instance, in a sunny balcony. Stir it, down to the bottom, two or three
+times a day--always with a stick. Use nothing of metal in making this
+ink. When it is very black, and writes well, pour it off carefully from
+the bottom, (which must have rested undisturbed for two or three hours
+previous,) passing it through a funnel into pint-bottles. Before you
+cork them, put into each a large tea-spoonful of brandy, to prevent
+moulding, or a few drops of lavender. A small tea-spoonful of cloves,
+(slightly broken,) placed in the bottom of each bottle, before the ink
+is poured in, will answer the same purpose. Scouring the pitcher with
+soap and sand, after throwing away the dregs of the ink, will completely
+clear off the stains.
+
+Ink-stands should be washed out, before they are filled anew.
+
+There is no ink superior to this in blackness or smoothness. You can
+make it at less than half the cost of that which you buy in the shops.
+It looks blacker the next day after using, and never fades. If it
+becomes rather too thick, dilute it slightly with water, and stir it
+down to the bottom.
+
+Never use _blue_ ink. If the letter chances to get wet, the writing will
+be effaced. Serious losses have resulted from business letters being
+written in blue ink.
+
+If you make a mistake in a word, draw your pen through it, or score it
+so as to be quite illegible, and then interline the correction, placing
+a caret beneath. This will be better than scratching out the error with
+your penknife, and afterward trying to write a new word in the identical
+place; an attempt which rarely succeeds, even with the aid of
+pounce-powder, which is pulverized gum-sandarac.
+
+At the end of the letter, somewhat lower than your signature, (which
+should be very near the right-hand edge of the page,) add the name and
+address of the person for whom the letter is designed, and to whom it
+will thus find its way, even if the envelope should be defaced, or torn
+off and lost. Write your own name rather larger than your usual hand,
+and put a dot or dash after it.
+
+Some of the ensuing paragraphs are taken (with permission of the
+publisher) from a former work of the author's.
+
+In folding a letter, let the breadth (from left to right) far exceed the
+height. A letter folded tall is ridiculous, and one verging towards
+squareness looks very awkward. It is well to use a folder (or
+paper-knife) to press along the edges of the folds, that they may be
+smooth and straight. If one is looser than another, or if there is the
+slightest narrowing in, or widening out, toward the edge of the
+turn-over, the letter will have an irregular, unsightly appearance.
+Pieces of ruled lines may be so cut that you can slip them under the
+back of a letter after it is folded, and then you will be in no danger
+of writing the direction crooked, or uneven.
+
+Write the name of your correspondent about the middle of the back, and
+very clearly and distinctly. Then give the number and street on the next
+line, a little nearer to the right. Then the town in _large_ letters,
+extending still nearer to the right. If a country-town, give next (in
+letters a little smaller) the name of the _county_ in which it is
+situated. This is very necessary, as in some of our states there is more
+than one town of the same name, and "Washingtons" all over the Union.
+Lastly, at the very bottom, and close to the right, indicate the state
+or district by its usual abbreviation,--for instance, _Me._ for
+Maine[14]--_N. H._ New Hampshire--_Vt._ Vermont--_Mass._
+Massachusetts--_R. I._ Rhode Island--_Ct._ or _Conn._ Connecticut--_N.
+Y._ New York--_N. J._ New Jersey--_Pa._ or _Penna._ Pennsylvania--_Del._
+Delaware--_Md._ Maryland--_Va._ Virginia--_N. C._ North Carolina--_S.
+C._ South Carolina--_Ga._ or _Geo._ Georgia--_Ala._ Alabama--_Miss._
+Mississippi--_Mo._ Missouri--_La._ Louisiana--_Tenn._ Tennessee--_Ky._
+Kentucky--_O._ Ohio--_Ind._ Indiana--_Ill._ Illinois--_Mich._
+Michigan--_Ark._ Arkansas--_Wis._ Wisconsin--_Io._ Iowa--_Tex._
+Texas--_Flo._ Florida--_Cal._ California--_Or._ Oregon--_Minn._
+Minnesota--_Utah_--_D. C._ District of Columbia.
+
+To these may be added the abbreviations of the British possessions in
+North America: _U. C._ Upper Canada--_L. C._ Lower Canada--_N. S._ Nova
+Scotia--_N. B._ New Brunswick--_N. P._ New Providence.
+
+In directing a letter to a foreign country, give the whole name, as
+France, Spain, Belgium, England, Ireland, Scotland, &c. We have towns in
+America called after all manner of European towns. For instance, a
+letter directed to our Havre-de-Grace, might, if Maryland was not
+designated, find its way to Havre-de-Grace in France; Rome in the state
+of New York might be taken to Rome in Italy,--York in Pennsylvania to
+York in England, &c. We know an instance of a gentleman directing an
+important letter to Boston, and, forgetting to add _Mass._ (for
+Massachusetts) at the bottom, the letter actually went from Philadelphia
+to the small town of Boston in Lincolnshire, England. In writing _from_
+Europe, finish the direction with the words _United States of North
+America_.
+
+When you send a letter by a private opportunity, (a thing which is
+already almost obsolete since the days of cheap postage,) it will be
+sufficient to introduce very near the lower edge of the left-hand corner
+of the back, simply the name of the gentleman who carries it, written
+small. It is now considered old-fashioned to insert on the back of such
+a letter--"Politeness of Mr. Smith"--"Favoured by Mr. Jones"--"Honoured
+by Mr. Brown." If the letter is to cross the sea, by mail or otherwise,
+write the name of the vessel on the left-hand corner of the outside.
+
+When a letter is to go to New York city, always put the words New York
+_in full_, (and not N. Y.), written large. Much confusion is caused by
+the name of this state and its metropolis being the same. It has been
+well-suggested that the name of the state of New York should be changed
+to Ontario--a beautiful change. In directing to any of the towns in the
+state of New York, then put N. Y. after the name of the town, as Hudson,
+N. Y.,--Syracuse, N. Y., &c.
+
+In sending a letter to the metropolis of the Union, direct for
+Washington, D. C.
+
+In directing to a clergyman, put _Rev._ (Reverend) before his name. If a
+bishop, _Right Reverend_. To an officer, immediately after his name put
+U. S. A. for United States Army, or U. S. N. for United States
+Navy--having preceded his name with _Gen._, _Col._, _Capt._, _Lieut._,
+according to his rank.
+
+The title Hon. (Honourable) is always used in directing to a member of
+congress, a member of the cabinet, a judge of the supreme court, an
+ambassador, or the governor of a state. For the Chief Magistrate of the
+Union, you may direct simply to the President of the United States. The
+term "Excellency" is now but little used.
+
+For a gentleman holding a professorship in a university, preface his
+name with _Prof._ or _Professor_. The title of "Professor" does not
+really belong to all men who teach any thing, or to every man that
+exhibits a show--or to mesmerists, and spiritual knockers. Do not give
+it to them.
+
+For sealing letters no light is so convenient as a wax taper in a low
+stand. A lamp, or candle, may smoke or blacken the wax. To seal well,
+your wax should be of the finest quality. Red wax of a bright scarlet
+colour is the best. Low-priced wax consumes very fast; and when melted,
+looks purplish or brownish. When going to melt sealing-wax, rest your
+elbow on the table to keep your hand steady. Take the stick of wax
+between your thumb and finger, and hold it a little above the light, so
+that it barely touches the point of the flame. Turn the stick round
+till it is equally softened on all sides. Then insert a little of the
+melted wax _under_ the turn-over part of the letter, just where the seal
+is to come. This will render it more secure than if the sole dependence
+was on the outside seal. Or instead of this little touch of wax, you may
+slip beneath the turn-over a small wafer, either white or of the same
+colour as the wax. Then begin at the outer edge of the place you intend
+for the seal; and move the wax in a circle, which must gradually
+diminish till it terminates in the centre. Put the seal exactly to the
+middle of the soft wax, and press it down hard, but do not screw it
+round. Then withdraw it suddenly. Do not use motto seals unless writing
+to a member of your own family, or to an intimate friend. For common
+service, (and particularly for letters of business,) a plain seal, with
+simply your initials, is best.
+
+For a note always use a very small seal. In addressing one of your own
+family, it is not necessary to follow scrupulously all these
+observances. In writing to persons decidedly your inferiors in station,
+avoid the probability of mortifying them by sending mean, ill-looking
+notes.
+
+Remember also (what, strange to say, some people calling themselves
+ladies seem not to know) that a note commenced in the first person must
+continue in the first person all through. The same when it begins in the
+third person. We have heard of invitations to a party being worded
+thus:--
+
+     Mrs. Welford's compliments to Mrs. Marley, and requests the
+     pleasure of her company on Thursday evening.
+
+              Yours sincerely,
+
+                                E. WELFORD.
+
+Notes of invitation should always designate both the day of the week and
+that of the month. If that of _the month only_ is specified, one figure
+may perhaps be mistaken for another; for instance, the 13th may look
+like the 18th, or the 25th like the 26th. We know instances where, from
+this cause, some of the guests did not come till the night _after_ the
+party.
+
+There are some very sensible people who, in their invitations, tell
+frankly what is to be expected, and if they really ask but _a few_
+friends, they at once give the names of those friends, so that you may
+know whom you are to see. If you are to meet no more than can sit round
+the tea-table, they signify the same. If they expect twenty, thirty, or
+forty persons, they say so--and do not leave you in doubt whether to
+dress for something very like a party, or for a mere family
+tea-drinking.
+
+If it is a decided music-party, by all means specify the same, that
+those who have no enjoyment of what is considered fashionable music, may
+stay away.
+
+Always reply to a note of invitation the day after you have received it.
+To a note on business send an answer the same day. After accepting an
+invitation, should any thing occur to prevent your going, send a second
+note in due time.
+
+Do not take offence at a friend because she does not invite you every
+time she has company. Her regard for you may be as warm as ever, but it
+is probably inconvenient for her to have more than a certain number at a
+time. Believe that the omission is no evidence of neglect, or of a
+desire to offend you; but rest assured that you are to be invited on
+other occasions. If you are _not_, then indeed you may take it as a hint
+that she is no longer desirous of continuing the acquaintance. Be
+dignified enough not to call her to account; but cease visiting her,
+without taking her to task and bringing on a quarrel. But if you _must_
+quarrel, let it not be in writing. A paper war is always carried too
+far, and produces bitterness of feeling which is seldom entirely
+eradicated, even after apologies have been made and accepted. Still,
+when an offence has been given in writing, the atonement should be made
+in writing also.
+
+Much time is wasted (particularly by young ladies) in writing and
+answering such epistles as are termed "letters of friendship,"--meaning
+long documents (frequently with crossed lines) filled with regrets at
+absence, asseverations of eternal affection, modest deprecations of your
+humble self, and enthusiastic glorifyings of your exalted correspondent;
+or else wonderments at both of you being so much alike, and so very
+congenial; and anticipations of rapture at meeting again, and
+lamentations at the slow progress of time, till the extatic hour of
+re-union shall arrive--the _postscript_ usually containing some
+confidential allusion to a lover, (either real or supposed,) and
+perhaps a kind enquiry about a real or supposed lover of your friend's.
+
+Now such letters as these are of no manner of use but to foster a
+sickly, morbid feeling, (very often a fictitious one,) and to encourage
+nonsense, and destroy all relish for such true friendship as is good and
+wholesome.
+
+A still worse species of voluminous female correspondence is that which
+turns _entirely_ upon love, or rather on what are called "beaux;" or
+entirely on hate--for instance, hatred of step-mothers. This topic is
+considered the more _piquant_ from its impropriety, and from its being
+carried on in secret.
+
+Then there are young ladies born with the organ of letter-writing
+amazingly developed, and increased by perpetual practice, who can
+scarcely become acquainted with a gentleman possessing brains, without
+volunteering a correspondence with him. And then ensues a long
+epistolary dialogue about nothing, or at least nothing worth reading or
+remembering; trenching closely on gallantry, but still not quite _that_;
+affected flippancy on the part of the lady; and unaffected impertinence
+on that of the gentleman, "which serves her right"--alternating with
+pretended poutings on her side, and half or whole-laughing apologies on
+his. Sometimes there are attempts at moralizing, or criticising, or
+sentimentalizing--but nothing is ever elicited that, to a third person,
+can afford the least amusement or improvement, or excite the least
+interest. Yet, strange to say, gentlemen have been inveigled into this
+sort of correspondence, even by ladies who have made a business of
+afterward selling the letters for publication, and making money out of
+them. And such epistles have actually been printed. We do not suppose
+they have been read. The public is very stubborn in refusing to read
+what neither amuses, interests, or improves--even when a publisher is
+actually so weak as to print such things.
+
+No young lady ever engages in a correspondence with a gentleman that is
+neither her relative or her betrothed, without eventually lessening
+herself in his eyes. Of this she may rest assured. With some men, it is
+even dangerous for a lady to write a note on the commonest subject. He
+may show the superscription, or the signature, or both, to his idle
+companions, and make insinuations much to her disadvantage, which his
+comrades will be sure to circulate and exaggerate.
+
+Above all, let no lady correspond with a married man, unless she is
+obliged to consult him on business; and from that plain, straight path
+let her not diverge. Even if the wife sees and reads every letter, she
+will, in all probability, feel a touch of jealousy, (or more than a
+touch,) if she finds that they excite interest in her husband, or give
+him pleasure. This will inevitably be the case if the married lady is
+inferior in intellect to the single one, and has a lurking consciousness
+that she is so.
+
+Having hinted what the correspondence of young ladies ought _not_ to be,
+we will try to convey some idea of what it ought. Let us premise that
+there is no danger of _any_ errors in grammar or spelling, and but few
+faults of punctuation, and that the fair writers are aware that a
+sentence should always conclude with a period or full stop, to be
+followed by a capital letter beginning the next sentence; and that a new
+paragraph should be allotted to every change of subject, provided that
+there is room on the sheet of paper. And still, it is well to have
+always at hand a dictionary and a grammar, in case of unaccountable
+lapses of memory. However, persons who have read much, and read to
+advantage, generally find themselves at no loss in orthography, grammar,
+and punctuation. To spell badly is disgraceful in a lady or gentleman,
+and it looks as if they had quitted reading as soon as they quitted
+school.
+
+To write a legible and handsome hand is an accomplishment not
+sufficiently valued. And yet of what importance it is! We are always
+vexed when we hear people of talent making a sort of boast of the
+illegibility of their writing, and relating anecdotes of the difficulty
+with which it has been read, and the mistakes made by its decipherers.
+There are persons who affect bad writing, and boast of it, because the
+worst signatures extant are those of Shakspeare, Bonaparte, and Byron.
+These men were great in spite of their autographs, not because of them.
+The caliph Haroun Alraschid, who was well imbued with Arabic learning,
+sent an elegantly written letter to Charlemagne, with a splendid cover
+and seals; not being aware that the European emperor's signature was
+made by dipping his thumb into the ink and giving a smear--sealing with
+the hilt of his dagger.
+
+The "wording" of your letter should be as much like conversation as
+possible, containing (in a condensed form) just what you would be most
+likely to talk about if you saw your friend. A letter is of no use
+unless it conveys some information, excites some interest, or affords
+some improvement. It may be handsomely written, correct in spelling,
+punctuation, and grammar, and yet stiff and formal in style--affectedly
+didactic, and therefore tiresome--or mawkishly sentimental, and
+therefore foolish. It may be refined, or high-flown in words, but flat
+and barren in ideas, containing nothing that a correspondent cares to
+know.
+
+Read over each page of your letter, as you finish it, to see that there
+are no errors. If you find any, correct them carefully. In writing a
+familiar letter, a very common fault is tautology, or a too frequent
+repetition of the same word--for instance, "Yesterday I received a
+letter from sister Mary, which was the first letter I have received from
+sister since she left." The sentence should be, "Yesterday I received a
+letter from my sister Mary, the first since she left us."
+
+Unless you are writing to one of your own family, put always the pronoun
+"_my_" before the word "sister." Say also--"my father," "my mother," and
+not "father," "mother," as if they were also the parents of your
+correspondent.
+
+To end the sentence with the word "left," (for departed,) is awkward and
+unsatisfactory--for instance, "It is two days since he left." Left what?
+It is one of the absurd innovations that have crept in among us of late
+years, and are supposed to be fashionable. Another is the ridiculous way
+of omitting the possessive S in words ending with that letter; for
+instance, "Sims' Hotel" instead of "Sims's Hotel"--"Jenkins' Bakery" for
+"Jenkins's Bakery." Would any one, in talking, say they had stayed at
+Sims' Hotel, or that they bought their bread at Jenkins' Bakery. This is
+ungrammatical, as it obliterates the possessive case, and is therefore
+indefinite; and moreover, it looks and sounds awkwardly.
+
+Many persons who think themselves good grammarians put on their cards
+"The Misses Brown,"--"The Misses Smith." Those who _really_ are so,
+write "The Miss Browns"--"The Miss Smiths"--the plural being always on
+the substantive, and never on the adjective. Would we say "the whites
+glove" instead of "the white gloves"--or the "blues ribbon" for the
+"blue ribbons." Does any lady in talking say, "The two Misses Brown
+called to see me?"
+
+It is also wrong to say "two _spoons_ful," instead of two _spoon_fuls.
+Thus, "two spoonsful of milk" seems to imply two separate spoons with
+milk in each; while "two spoonfuls of milk" gives the true idea--one
+spoon twice filled.
+
+Avoid in writing, as in talking, all words that do not express the true
+meaning. We are sorry to say that sometimes even among educated people,
+when attempting smartness or wit, we find a sort of conventional slang
+that has, in truth, a strong tinge of vulgarity, being the wilful
+substitution of bad words or bad phrases for good ones. When we find
+them issuing from the lips or the pen of a _lady_, we fear she is
+unfortunate in a reprobate husband, or brother, from whom she must have
+learnt them. Yet even reprobates dislike to hear their wives and sisters
+talking coarsely.
+
+Unless you know that your correspondent is well versed in French,
+refrain from interlarding your letters with Gallic words or phrases.
+
+Do not introduce long quotations from poetry. Three or four lines of
+verse are sufficient. One line, or two, are better still. Write them
+rather smaller than your usual hand, and leave a space at the beginning
+and end; marking their commencement and termination with inverted
+commas, thus " ".
+
+One of our young relatives when seven or eight years old, tried her hand
+at story-writing. In finishing the history of a naughty girl, much
+addicted to falsehood, the terminating sentence ran thus:--
+
+"Arabella did not cure herself of this fault; but when she grew up, and
+became an authoress, she never marked her quotations."
+
+If your letter is longer than can be comprised in one sheet, number the
+pages, placing the number near the upper corner. If engaged in a regular
+correspondence on business or other things, or in writing from a foreign
+country to your family at home, number not only the pages, but the
+letter itself, putting that figure in the centre at the top of the first
+page. Thus, if your friend, having received No. 10, finds the next
+letter that comes to hand is No. 12, she will know that No. 11 is
+missing, and will tell you so in her reply. Keep a memorandum of the
+letters you have sent, that you may know how to number the next. Before
+commencing a long letter, it is well to put down on a slip of paper, a
+list of the subjects you intend to write on.
+
+Unless to persons living in the same house, do not enclose one letter in
+another. And even then, it is not always safe to do so. Let each letter
+be transmitted on its own account, by mail, with its own full direction,
+and its own post-office stamp. We know an instance where the peace of a
+family was entirely ruined by one of its members suppressing enclosed
+letters. Confide to no one the delivery of an important letter intended
+for another person. It is better to trust to the mail, and send a
+duplicate by the next post.
+
+To break the seal of a letter directed to another person is punishable
+by law. To read _secretly_ the letter of another is morally as
+felonious. A woman who would act thus meanly is worse than those who
+apply their eyes or ears to key-holes, or door-cracks, or who listen
+under windows, or look down from attics upon their neighbours; or who,
+in a dusky parlour, before the lamps are lighted, ensconce themselves in
+a corner, and give no note of their presence while listening to a
+conversation not intended for them to hear.
+
+We do not conceive that, unless he authorizes her to do so, (which he
+had best not,) a wife is justifiable in opening her husband's letters,
+or he in reading hers. Neither wife nor husband has any right to entrust
+to the other the secrets of their friends; and letters may contain such
+secrets. Unless under extraordinary circumstances, parents should not
+consider themselves privileged to inspect the correspondence of grown-up
+children. Brothers and sisters always take care that their epistles
+shall not be unceremoniously opened by each other. In short, a letter is
+the property of the person to whom it is addressed, and nobody has a
+right to read it without permission.
+
+If you are shown an autograph signature at the bottom of a letter, be
+satisfied to look at _that only_; and do not open out, and read the
+whole--unless desired.
+
+Some years ago, in one of our most popular magazines, were several pages
+containing fac-simile signatures of a number of distinguished literary
+women--chiefly English. We saw an original letter, from a lady, who
+complained that some mischievous person had taken _her_ magazine out of
+the post-office before it reached her, and shamefully _scribbled women's
+names_ in it, disfiguring it so as to render it unfit for binding;
+therefore she desired the publisher to send her a clean copy in place of
+it.
+
+In putting up packets to send away, either tie them round and across,
+with red tape, (sealing them also where the tape crosses,) or seal them
+without any tape. If the paper is strong, the wax good, and the contents
+of the parcel not too heavy, sealing will in most cases be sufficient.
+Twine or cord may cut the paper, and therefore is best omitted. Never
+put up a parcel in newspaper. It looks mean and disrespectful, and will
+soil the articles inside.
+
+Keep yourself provided with different sorts and sizes of wrapping-paper.
+
+A large packet requires more than one seal; the seals rather larger than
+for a letter.
+
+Put up newspapers, for transmission, in thin whitish or brownish paper,
+pasting the cover, and leaving one end open. Newspaper-stamps cost but
+one cent, and are indispensable to the transmission of the paper.
+
+Avoid giving letters of introduction to people whose acquaintance cannot
+possibly afford any pleasure or advantage to those whose civilities are
+desired for them, or who have not leisure to attend to strangers.
+Artists, authors, and all other persons to whom "time is money," and
+whose income stops whenever their hands and eyes are unemployed, are
+peculiarly annoyed by the frequency of introductory letters, brought by
+people with whom they can feel no congeniality, and whom they never
+would have sought for. Among the children of genius, but few are in a
+situation to entertain strangers _handsomely_, as it is called, which
+means, _expensively_. Many are kept always in straitened circumstances,
+from the incessant demands on their time and attention. And in numerous
+instances, letters are asked and given with no better motive than the
+gratification of idle curiosity.
+
+We advise all persons obtaining an introductory letter to a painter, to
+ascertain, before presenting it, what branch of the art he professes. We
+have been asked whether a certain artist (one of the most distinguished
+in London) painted "figures, flowers, or landscapes." Also, no one
+should presume to request an introduction to an authoress, if they are
+ignorant whether she writes prose or verse. Not that they are expected
+to talk to her, immediately, on literary subjects. Far from it; but if
+they know nothing of her works, they deserve no letter. In America,
+books, or at least newspapers, are accessible to all who can read.
+
+Bores are peculiarly addicted to asking letters of introduction, in
+accordance with their system of "bestowing their tediousness" upon as
+many people as possible. We pity the kind friends from whom these
+missives are required, and who have not courage to refuse, or address
+enough to excuse themselves plausibly from complying.
+
+We have known instances of stupid, vulgar persons, on preparing to visit
+another city, obtaining letters to families of the really highest class,
+and receiving from them the usual civilities, which they knew not how to
+appreciate.
+
+On the other hand, how pleasant it is, by means of an introductory
+letter, to bring together two kindred spirits, whose personal
+intercourse must inevitably produce mutual satisfaction, who are glad to
+know each other, glad to meet frequently, and grateful to the friend who
+has made them acquainted.
+
+Letters of introduction should not be sealed. To do so is rude, and
+mean. If you wish to write on the same day to the same person, take
+another sheet, write as long an epistle as you please, seal it, and send
+it _by mail_.
+
+It is best to deliver an introductory letter in person, as the lady or
+gentleman whose civilities have been requested in your behalf, may thus
+be spared the trouble of calling at your lodgings, with the risk of not
+finding you at home. This is very likely to happen, if you _send_
+instead of taking it yourself. If you _do_ send it, enclose a card with
+your residence. Also, it is more respectful to go yourself, than to
+expect them to come to you.
+
+As soon as you are shown into the parlour, send up the letter, and wait
+till the receiver comes to you.
+
+When a letter is brought to you by a private hand, the usual ceremony is
+to defer reading it till the bringer has departed, unless he desires you
+to read it at once, which he will, if it is evidently a short letter. If
+a long one, request him to excuse you a moment while you look at the
+beginning, to see if your correspondent is well.
+
+On farewell cards, it is usual to write with a pencil the letters "t. t.
+l.," "to take leave"--or "p. p. c.," "pour prendre congé." A lady
+complained to us that an acquaintance of hers, about to leave town, had
+left a card for her with "p. d. a." upon it. Not understanding the
+meaning of these letters, she had applied to a friend for explanation,
+who told her they meant "poor dear adieu." "Now," continued she--"I
+cannot understand why a mere acquaintance should be so familiar as to
+call me 'poor dear;' why am I a poor dear to her?" We relieved her by
+explaining that "pour dire adieu" was French for "to bid adieu."
+
+To conclude--let nothing induce you to give a letter of introduction to
+any person whose moral character is disreputable.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[14] When the name of the state is short, you may give all the letters
+that compose it, as Maine--Ohio--Iowa--Texas--Utah.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+PRESENTS.
+
+
+Having accepted a present, it is your duty, and ought to be your
+pleasure, to let the giver see that you make use of it as intended, and
+that it is not thrown away upon you. If it is an article of dress, or of
+personal decoration, take occasion, on the first _suitable_ opportunity,
+to wear it in presence of the giver. If an ornament for the
+centre-table, or the mantel-piece, place it there. If a book, do not
+delay reading it. Afterward, speak of it to her as favourably as you
+can. If of fruit or flowers, refer to them the next time you see her.
+
+In all cases, when a gift is sent to you, return a note of thanks; or at
+least a verbal message to that effect.
+
+Never enquire of the giver what was the price of her gift, or where she
+bought it. To do so is considered exceedingly rude.
+
+When an article is presented to you for a specified purpose, it is your
+duty to use it for _that_ purpose, and for no other, according to the
+wish of the donor. It is mean and dishonourable to give away a present;
+at least without first obtaining permission from the original giver. You
+have no right to be liberal or generous at the expense of another, or to
+accept a gift with a secret determination to bestow it _yourself_ on
+somebody else. If it is an article that you do not want, that you
+possess already, or that you cannot use for yourself, it is best to say
+so candidly, at once; expressing your thanks for the offer, and
+requesting your friend to keep it for some other person to whom it will
+be advantageous. It is fit that the purchaser of the gift should have
+the pleasure of doing a kindness with her own hand, and eliciting the
+gratitude of one whom she knows herself. It is paltry in you to deprive
+her of this pleasure, by first accepting a present, and then secretly
+giving it away as from yourself.
+
+There are instances of women whose circumstances did not allow them to
+indulge often in delicacies, that on a present of early fruit, or some
+other nice thing being sent to them by a kind friend, have
+ostentatiously transferred the gift to a wealthy neighbour, with a view
+of having it supposed that they had bought it themselves, and that to
+_them_ such things were no rarities. This is contemptible--but it is
+sometimes done.
+
+Making a valuable present to a rich person is in most cases, a work of
+supererogation; unless the gift is of something rare or _unique_, which
+cannot be purchased, and which may be seen and used to more advantage at
+the house of your friend than while in your own possession. But to give
+an expensive article of dress, jewellery, or furniture to one whose
+means of buying such things are quite equal (if not superior) to your
+own, is an absurdity; though not a very uncommon one, as society is now
+constituted. Such gifts elicit no real gratitude, for in all
+probability, they may not suit the pampered taste of those to whom fine
+things are no novelties. Or they may be regarded (however unjustly) as
+baits or nets to catch, in return, something of still greater cost.
+
+There are persons, who, believing that presents are generally made with
+some mercenary view, and being unwilling themselves to receive favours,
+or incur obligations, make a point of repaying them as soon as possible,
+by a gift of something equivalent. This at once implies that they
+suspect the motive. If sincere in her friendship, the donor of the first
+present will feel hurt at being directly paid for it, and consider that
+she has been treated rudely, and unjustly. On the other hand, if
+compensation _was_ secretly desired, and really expected, she will be
+disappointed at receiving nothing in return. Therefore, we repeat, that
+among persons who can conveniently provide themselves with whatever they
+may desire, the bestowal of presents is generally a most unthankful
+business. If you are in opulent circumstances, it is best to limit your
+generosity to such friends only as do not abound in the gifts of
+fortune, and whose situation denies them the means of indulging their
+tastes. By them such acts of kindness will be duly appreciated, and
+gratefully remembered; and the article presented will have a double
+value, if it is to them a novelty.
+
+Gratitude is a very pleasant sensation, both for those who feel and to
+those who excite it. No one who confers a favour can say _with truth_,
+that "they want no thanks." They always do.
+
+We know not why, when a young lady of fortune is going to be married,
+her friends should all be expected to present her with bridal gifts. It
+is a custom that sometimes bears heavily on those whose condition allows
+them but little to spare. And from that little it may be very hard for
+them to squeeze out enough to purchase some superfluous ornament, or
+some bauble for a centre-table, when it is already glittering with the
+gifts of the opulent;--gifts lavished on one who is really in no need of
+such things; and whose marriage confers no benefit on any one but
+herself. Why should she be rewarded for gratifying her own inclination
+in marrying the man of her choice? Now that it is fashionable to display
+all the wedding-gifts arranged in due form on tables, and labelled with
+the names of the donors, the seeming necessity of giving something
+expensive, or at least elegant, has become more onerous than ever. For
+instance, poor Miss Cassin can barely afford a simple brooch that costs
+about five dollars; but she strains the utmost capacity of her slender
+purse to buy one at ten dollars, that it may not disgrace the brilliant
+assemblage of jewellery that glitters on the bridal table of her wealthy
+friend Miss Denham. And after all, she finds that her modest little
+trinket looks really contemptible beside the diamond pin given by Mrs.
+Farley the millionaire. After all, she sees no one notice it, and hears
+no one say that it is even neat and pretty. To be sure, the bride, when
+it was sent with a note on the preceding day, did vouchsafe a polite
+answer. But then, if poor Miss C. does not make a wedding present to
+rich Miss D., it might be supposed that Miss C. cannot afford it.
+Neither she can. And her making the effort elicits perhaps some
+satirical remarks, that would be very mortifying to Miss Cassin if she
+heard them.
+
+We repeat, that we cannot exactly perceive why, when the union of a
+couple of lovers, in many cases, adds to the happiness, honour, and
+glory of the married pair alone, their friends should think it a duty to
+levy on themselves these contributions; so often inconvenient to the
+givers, and not much cared for by the receivers.
+
+When the young couple are not abounding in what are called "the goods of
+this world," the case is altered; and it may then be an act of real
+kindness for the opulent friends of the bride to present her with any
+handsome article of dress, or of furniture, that they think will be
+acceptable. What we contend is, that on a marriage in a wealthy family,
+the making of presents should be confined to the immediate relatives of
+the lady, and only to such of _them_ as can well afford it.
+
+Much of the money wasted in making ostentatious gifts to brides whose
+fathers have already given them a splendid outfit, might be far better
+employed, in assisting to purchase the _trousseaus_ and the furniture of
+deserving young women in humble life, on their marriage with respectable
+tradesmen or mechanics. How many ladies of fortune have it in their
+power to do this--yet how seldom it is done!
+
+At christenings, it is fortunately the sponsors only that are expected
+to make gifts to the infant. Therefore, invite no persons as sponsors,
+who cannot well afford this expense; unless you are sufficiently
+intimate to request them, privately, not to comply with the custom;
+being unwilling that they should cause themselves inconvenience by doing
+so.
+
+The presentation of Christmas and New-Year's gifts is often a severe tax
+on persons with whom money is not plenty. It would be well if it were
+the universal custom to expect and receive no presents from any but the
+rich.
+
+In making gifts to children, choose for them only such things as will
+afford them somewhat of lasting amusement. For boys, kites, tops, balls,
+marbles, wheelbarrows, carts, gardening utensils, and carpenter's tools,
+&c. Showy toys, that are merely to look at, and from which they can
+derive no enjoyment but in breaking them to pieces, are not worth
+buying. Little girls delight in little tea-sets, and dinner-sets, in
+which they can "make feasts," miniature kitchen-utensils, to play at
+cooking, washing, &c.; and dolls so dressed that all the clothes can be
+taken off and put on at pleasure. They soon grow tired of a doll whose
+glittering habiliments are sewed fast upon her. A wax doll in elegant
+attire is too precarious and expensive a plaything to make them happy;
+as they are always afraid of injuring her. We knew a little girl for
+whom a magnificent wax doll, splendidly dressed, was brought from
+France; and for an hour she was highly delighted. But next morning she
+was found still more happy in carrying about her favourite baby, a
+sofa-pillow, with an old shawl pinned round it for a frock; feeling
+perfect freedom to toss it about as she pleased. Children like their
+doll-babies to be very substantial, and rather heavy than light. A
+large, well-made _rag_-doll is for a small child far better than any
+other--occasionally putting a clean new face upon it.
+
+We have seen country children perfectly satisfied with a doll that was
+nothing but a hard ear of Indian corn, arrayed in a coarse towel pinned
+round it. A little farm-house boy, of three years old, made a pet of a
+large squash, which he dressed in a pocket-handkerchief, and called
+Phebe Ann. We heard him say, as he passed his hand over its lumpy neck,
+"Poor Phebe Ann! what hives she has!"
+
+To an intelligent child, no gifts are so valuable as entertaining
+books--provided they really _are_ entertaining. Children are generally
+wise enough to prefer an amusing book in a plain cover, to a dull one
+shining with gold. When children are able to read fluently, they lose
+much of their desire for mere picture-books. If the cuts are badly
+executed, and give ugly, disagreeable ideas of the characters in the
+stories, they only trouble and annoy the little readers, instead of
+pleasing them. Some of the most popular juvenile books have no pictures
+inside, and no gilding outside. Bad engravings, (beside uselessly
+enhancing the price,) spoil the taste of the children. We highly
+recommend to the publishers of juvenile books to omit the cuts entirely,
+if they cannot afford very good ones. Many children have better judgment
+in these things than their parents suppose; and some of them more than
+the parents themselves.
+
+Children have less enjoyment than is supposed in being taken to shops to
+choose gifts for themselves, or even in laying out their own money. It
+is always a long time before they can decide on what to buy, and as soon
+as they have fixed upon one thing, they immediately see something they
+like better. And often, after getting home, they are dissatisfied with
+their choice, and sorry they bought it. Also, they frequently wear out
+the patience of the shopkeepers; being desirous of seeing every thing,
+and pondering so long before they can determine on buying any thing.
+
+It is every way better to go to the shops without them, buy what you
+think proper, and then give them an agreeable surprise by the
+presentation.
+
+Young ladies should be careful how they accept presents from gentlemen.
+No truly modest and dignified woman will incur such obligations. And no
+gentleman who really respects her will offer her any thing more than a
+bouquet, a book, one or two autographs of distinguished persons, or a
+few relics or mementos of memorable places--things that derive their
+chief value from associations. But to present a young lady with articles
+of jewellery, or of dress, or with a costly ornament for the
+centre-table, (unless she is his affianced wife,) ought to be regarded
+as an offence, rather than a compliment, excusable only in a man sadly
+ignorant of the refinements of society. And if he is so, she should set
+him right, and civilly, but firmly, refuse to be his debtor.
+
+Yet, we are sorry to say, that there are ladies so rapacious, and so
+mean, that they are not ashamed to give broad hints to gentlemen,
+(particularly those gentlemen who are either very young or very old,)
+regarding certain beautiful card-cases, bracelets, essence-bottles, &c.
+which they have seen and admired,--even going so far as to fall in love
+with elegant shawls, scarfs, splendid fans, and embroidered
+handkerchiefs. And their admiration is so violent, and so reiterated,
+that the gentleman knows not how to resist; he therefore puts them in
+possession of a gift far too costly for any woman of delicacy to accept.
+In such cases, the father or mother of the young lady should oblige her
+to return the present. This has been done.
+
+There are ladies who keep themselves supplied with certain articles of
+finery, (for instance, white kid gloves,) by laying ridiculous wagers
+with gentlemen, knowing that, whether winning or losing, the gentleman,
+out of gallantry, always pays. No lady should ever lay wagers, even with
+one of her own sex. It is foolish and unfeminine--and no man likes her
+any the better for indulging in the practice.
+
+Some young ladies, who profess a sort of daughterly regard for certain
+wealthy old gentlemen, are so kind as to knit purses or work slippers
+for them, or some other nick-nacks, (provided always that the "dear old
+man" has a character for generosity,) for they know that he will reward
+them by a handsome present of some bijou of real value. And yet they may
+be assured that the kind old gentleman (whom "they mind no more than if
+he was their pa") sees through the whole plan, knows why the purse was
+knit, or the slippers worked, and esteems the kind young lady
+accordingly.
+
+Another, and highly reprehensible way of extorting a gift, is to have
+what is called a philopena with a gentleman. This very silly joke is
+when a young lady, in cracking almonds, chances to find two kernels in
+one shell; she shares them with a beau; which ever first calls out
+"_philopena_," on their next meeting, is entitled to receive a present
+from the other; and she is to remind him of it till he remembers to
+comply. So much nonsense is often talked on the occasion, that it seems
+to expand into something of importance; and the gentleman thinks he can
+do no less, than purchase for the lady something very elegant, or
+valuable; particularly if he has heard her tell of the munificence of
+other beaux in their philopenas.
+
+There is great want of delicacy and self-respect in philopenaism, and no
+lady who has a proper sense of her dignity _as a lady_ will engage in
+any thing of the sort.
+
+In presenting a dress to a friend whose circumstances are not so
+affluent as your own, and who you know will gladly receive it, select
+one of excellent quality, and of a colour that you think she will like.
+She will feel mortified, if you give her one that is low-priced, flimsy,
+and of an unbecoming tint. Get an ample quantity, so as to allow a piece
+to be cut off and laid by for a new body and sleeves, when necessary.
+And to make the gift complete, buy linen for the body-lining; stiff,
+glazed muslin for the facings; buttons, sewing-silk, and whatever else
+may be wanted. This will save her the cost of these things.
+
+When you give a dress to a poor woman, it is far better to buy for her a
+substantial new one, than to bestow on her an old thin gown of your own.
+The poor have little leisure to sew for themselves; and second-hand fine
+clothes last them but a very short time before they are fit only for the
+rag-bag.
+
+If you are going to have a party, and among your very _intimate_ friends
+is one whose circumstances will not permit her to incur the expense of
+buying a handsome new dress for the occasion, and if she has no choice
+but to stay away, or to appear in a costume very inferior to that of the
+other ladies, you may (if you can well afford it) obviate this
+difficulty by presenting her with a proper dress-pattern, and other
+accessories. This may be managed anonymously, but it will be better to
+do it with her knowledge. It will be a very gratifying mark of your
+friendship; and she ought to consider it as such, and not refuse it from
+a feeling of false pride. Of course, it will be kept a secret from all
+but yourselves. In the overflow of gratitude _she_ may speak of it to
+others, but for _you_ to mention it would be ungenerous and indelicate
+in the extreme. We are glad to say that ladies of fortune often make
+gifts of party-dresses to their less-favoured friends.
+
+In sending a present, always pay in advance the expense of transmitting
+it, so that it may cost nothing at all to the receiver. You may send by
+the Mail a package of any size, weighing not more than four pounds,
+paying the postage yourself at the office from whence it goes. It will
+then be delivered at the door of your friend, without further charge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+CONVERSATION.
+
+
+Conversation is the verbal interchange of thoughts and feelings. To form
+a _perfect_ conversationist, many qualifications are requisite. There
+must be knowledge of the world, knowledge of books, and a facility of
+imparting that knowledge; together with originality, memory, an
+intuitive perception of what is best to say, and best to omit, good
+taste, good temper, and good manners. An agreeable and instructive
+talker has the faculty of going "from gay to grave, from lively to
+serene," without any apparent effort; neither skimming so slightly over
+a variety of topics as to leave no impression of any, or dwelling so
+long upon one subject as to weary the attention of the hearers. Persons
+labouring under a monomania, such as absorbs their whole mind into one
+prevailing idea, are never pleasant or impressive talkers. They defeat
+their own purpose by recurring to it perpetually, and rendering it a
+perpetual fatigue. A good talker should cultivate a temperance in
+talking; so as not to talk too much, to the exclusion of other good
+talkers. Conversation is dialogue, not monologue. It was said of Madame
+de Stael that she did not converse, but delivered orations.
+
+To be a perfect conversationist, a good voice is indispensable--a voice
+that is clear, distinct, and silver-toned. If you find that you have a
+habit of speaking too low, "reform it altogether." It is a bad one; and
+will render your talk unintelligible.
+
+Few things are more delightful than for one intelligent and well-stored
+mind to find itself in company with a kindred spirit--each understanding
+the other, catching every idea, and comprehending every allusion. Such
+persons will become as intimate in half an hour, as if they had been
+personally acquainted for years.
+
+On the other hand, the pleasure of society is much lessened by the habit
+in which many persons indulge, of placing themselves always in the
+opposition, controverting every opinion, and doubting every fact. They
+talk to you as a lawyer examines a witness at the bar; trying to catch
+you in some discrepancy that will invalidate your testimony; fixing
+their scrutinizing eyes upon your face "as if they would look you
+through," and scarcely permitting you to say, "It is a fine day,"
+without making you prove your words. Such people are never popular.
+Nobody likes perpetual contradiction, especially when the subject of
+argument is of little or no consequence. In young people this dogmatic
+practice is generally based upon vanity and impertinence. In the old it
+is prompted by pride and selfishness. We doubt if in the present day the
+talk and manners of Johnson would have been tolerated in really good
+society.
+
+Unless he first refers to it himself, never talk to a gentleman
+concerning his profession; at least do not question him about it. For
+instance, you must not expect a physician to tell you how his patients
+are affected, or to confide to you any particulars of their maladies.
+These are subjects that he will discuss only with their relatives, or
+their nurses. It is also very improper to ask a lawyer about his
+clients, or the cases in which he is employed. A clergyman does not like
+always to be talking about the church. A merchant, when away from his
+counting-house, has no wish to engage in business-talk with ladies; and
+a mechanic is ever willing "to leave the shop behind him." Every
+American is to be supposed capable of conversing on miscellaneous
+subjects; and he considers it no compliment to be treated as if he knew
+nothing but what the Scotch call his "bread-winner." Still, there are
+some few individuals who like to talk of their bread-winner. If you
+perceive this disposition, indulge them, and listen attentively. You
+will learn something useful, and worth remembering.
+
+Women who have begun the world in humble life, and have been
+necessitated to give most of their attention to household affairs, are
+generally very shy in talking of housewifery, after their husbands have
+become rich, and are living in style, as it is called. Therefore, do not
+annoy them by questions on domestic economy. But converse as if they had
+been ladies always.
+
+Lord Erskine, having lived a bachelor to an advanced age, finally
+married his cook, by way of securing her services, as she had frequently
+threatened to leave him. After she became Lady Erskine she lost all
+knowledge of cookery, and it was a mortal affront to hint the
+possibility of her knowing how any sort of eatable should be prepared
+for the table.
+
+Never remind any one of the time when their situation was less genteel,
+or less affluent than at present, or tell them that you remember their
+living in a small house, or in a remote street. If they have not moral
+courage to talk of such things themselves, it is rude in you to make any
+allusion to them.
+
+On the other hand, if invited to a fashionable house, and to meet
+fashionable company, it is not the time or place for you to set forth
+the comparative obscurity of your own origin, by way of showing that you
+are not proud. If _you_ are not proud, it is most likely that your
+entertainers may be, and they will not be pleased at your
+ultra-magnanimity in thus lowering yourself before their aristocratic
+guests. These communications should be reserved for _tête-à-têtes_ with
+old or familiar friends, who have no more pride than yourself.
+
+When listening to a circumstance that is stated to have actually
+occurred to the relater, even if it strikes you as being very
+extraordinary, and not in conformity to your own experience, it is rude
+to reply, "Such a thing never happened to _me_." It is rude because it
+seems to imply a doubt of the narrator's veracity; and it is foolish,
+because its not having happened to _you_ is no proof that it could not
+have happened to any body else. Slowness in belief is sometimes an
+evidence of ignorance, rather than of knowledge. People who have read
+but little, travelled but little, and seen but little of the world out
+of their own immediate circle, and whose intellect is too obtuse to
+desire any new accession to their own small stock of ideas, are apt to
+think that nothing can be true unless it has fallen under their own
+limited experience. Also, they may be so circumstanced that nothing in
+the least out of the common way is likely to disturb the still water of
+their pond-like existence.
+
+A certain English nobleman always listens incredulously when he hears
+any person descanting on the inconveniences of travelling on the
+continent, and relating instances of bad accommodations and bad fare;
+uncomfortable vehicles, and uncomfortable inns; the short beds and
+narrow sheets of Germany; the slow and lumbering diligence-riding of
+France; the garlicky stews of Spain with a feline foundation; the little
+vine-twig fires in the chilly winters of Northern Italy; and various
+other ills, which the flesh of travellers is heir to;--the duke always
+saying, "Now really _I_ never experienced any of these discomforts, much
+as I have traversed the continent. None of these inconveniences ever
+come in my way." And how should they, when, being a man of enormous
+wealth, he always travels with a cavalcade of carriages; a retinue of
+servants; a wagon-load of bedding and other furniture; a cook, with
+cooking-utensils, and lots of luxurious eatables to be cooked at
+stopping-places--his body-coach (as it is called) being a horse-drawn
+palace. What inconveniences can possibly happen to _him_?
+
+When you hear a gentleman speak in praise of a lady whom you do not
+think deserving of his commendations, you will gain nothing by
+attempting to undeceive him; particularly if she is handsome. Your
+dissenting from his opinion he will, in all probability, impute to envy,
+or ill-nature; and therefore the only impression you can make will be
+against yourself.
+
+Even if you have reason to dislike the lady, recollect that few are
+without some good points both of person and character. And it will be
+much better for you to pass over her faults in silence, and agree with
+him in commending what is really commendable about her. What he would,
+perhaps, believe implicitly if told to him by a man, he would attribute
+entirely to jealousy, or to a love of detraction if related by a woman.
+Above all, if a gentleman descants on the beauty of a lady, and in your
+own mind you do not coincide with his opinion, refrain, on your part,
+from criticizing invidiously her face and figure, and do not say that
+"though her complexion may be fine, her features are not regular;" that
+"her nose is too small," or "her eyes too large," or "her mouth too
+wide." Still less disclose to him the secret of her wearing false hair,
+artificial teeth, or tinging her cheeks with rouge. If she is a bold,
+forward woman, he will find that out as soon as yourself, and sooner
+too,--and you may be sure that though he may amuse himself by talking
+and flirting with her, he in reality regards her as she deserves.
+
+If a foreigner chances, in your presence, to make an unfavourable remark
+upon some custom or habit peculiar to your country, do not immediately
+take fire and resent it; for, perhaps, upon reflection, you may find
+that he is right, or nearly so. All countries have their national
+character, and no character is perfect, whether that of a nation or an
+individual. If you know that the stranger has imbibed an erroneous
+impression, you may calmly, and in a few words, endeavour to convince
+him of it. But if he shows an unwillingness to be convinced, and tells
+you that what he has said he heard from good authority; or that, before
+he came to America, "his mind was made up," it will be worse than
+useless for you to continue the argument. Therefore change the subject,
+or turn and address your conversation to some one else.
+
+Lady Morgan's Duchess of Belmont very properly checks O'Donnell for his
+ultra-nationality, and advises him not to be always running a tilt with
+every Englishman he talks to, continually seeming as if ready with the
+war-cry of "St. Patrick for Ireland, against St. George for England."
+
+Dr. Johnson was speaking of Scotland with his usual severity, when a
+Caledonian who was present, started up, and called out, "Sir, _I_ was
+born in Scotland." "Very well, sir," said the cynic calmly, "I do not
+see why so small a circumstance should make any change in the national
+character."
+
+English strangers complain (and with reason) of the American practice of
+imposing on their credulity, by giving them false and exaggerated
+accounts of certain things peculiar to this country, and telling them,
+as truths, stories that are absolute impossibilities; the amusement
+being to see how the John Bulls swallow these absurdities. Even General
+Washington diverted himself by mystifying Weld the English traveller,
+who complained to him at Mount Vernon of musquitoes so large and fierce
+that they bit through his cloth coat. "Those are nothing," said
+Washington, "to musquitoes I have met with, that bite through a thick
+leather boot." Weld expressed his astonishment, (as well he might;) and,
+when he "put out a book," inserted the story of the boot-piercing
+insects, which he said _must_ be true, as he had it from no less a
+person than General Washington.
+
+It is a work of supererogation to furnish falsehoods for British
+travellers. They can manufacture them fast enough. Also, it is
+ungenerous thus to sport with their ignorance, and betray them into
+ridiculous caricatures, which they present to the English world in good
+faith. We hope these tricks are not played upon any of the best class of
+European travel-writers.
+
+When in Europe, (in England particularly,) be not over sensitive as to
+remarks that may be made on your own country; and do not expect every
+one around you to keep perpetually in mind that you are an American; nor
+require that they should guard every word, and keep a constant check on
+their conversation, lest they should chance to offend your republican
+feelings. The English, as they become better acquainted with America,
+regard us with more favour, and are fast getting rid of their old
+prejudices, and opening their eyes as to the advantages to be derived
+from cultivating our friendship instead of provoking our enmity. They
+have, at last, all learnt that our language is theirs, and they no
+longer compliment newly-arrived Americans on speaking English "quite
+well." It is not many years since two young ladies from one of our
+Western States, being at a party at a very fashionable mansion in
+London, were requested by the lady of the house to talk a little
+American; several of her guests being desirous of hearing a specimen of
+that language. One of the young ladies mischievously giving a hint to
+the other, they commenced a conversation in what school-girls call
+_gibberish_; and the listeners, when they had finished, gave various
+opinions on the American tongue, some pronouncing it very soft, and
+rather musical; others could not help saying candidly that they found it
+rather harsh. But all agreed that it resembled no language they had
+heard before.
+
+There is no doubt that by the masses, better English is spoken in
+America than in England.
+
+However an Englishman or an Englishwoman may boast of their intimacy
+with "the nobility and gentry," there is one infallible rule by which
+the falsehood of these pretensions may be detected. And that is in the
+misuse of the letter H, putting it where it should not be, and omitting
+it where it should. This unaccountable practice prevails, more or less,
+in all parts of England, but is unknown in Scotland and Ireland. It is
+never found but among the middle and lower classes, and by polished and
+well-educated people is as much laughed at in England as it is with us.
+A relative of ours being in a stationer's shop in St. Paul's Church
+Yard, (the street surrounding the cathedral,) heard the stationer call
+his boy, and tell him to "go and take the babby out, and give him a
+_hairing_--the babby having had no _hair_ for a week." We have heard an
+Englishman talk of "taking an _ouse_ that should have an _ot_ water
+pipe, and a _hoven_." The same man asked a young lady "if she had _eels_
+on her boots." We heard an Englishwoman tell a servant to "bring the
+_arth_ brush, and sweep up the _hashes_." Another assured us that "the
+American ladies were quite _hignorant_ of _hetiquette_."
+
+We have actually seen a ridiculous bill sent seriously by a Yorkshireman
+who kept a livery-stable in Philadelphia. The items were, _verbatim_--
+
+                                   D. C.
+    anosafada                      2 50
+    takinonimome                   0 37
+
+No reader can possibly guess this--so we will explain that the first
+line, in which all the words run into one, signifies "An orse af a
+day,"--or "A horse half a day." The second line means "takin on im
+ome,"--or "Taking of him home."
+
+English travellers are justly severe on the tobacco-chewing and
+spitting, that though exploded in the best society, is still too
+prevalent among the million. All American ladies can speak feelingly on
+this subject, for they suffer from it in various ways. First, the
+sickening disgust without which they cannot witness the act of
+expectoration performed before their faces. Next, the danger of
+tobacco-saliva falling on their dresses in the street, or while
+travelling in steamers and rail-cars. Then the necessity of walking
+through the abomination when leaving those conveyances; treading in it
+with their shoes; and wiping it up with the hems of their gowns. We know
+an instance of the crown of a lady's white-silk bonnet being bespattered
+with tobacco-juice, by a man spitting out of a window in one of the New
+York hotels. A lady on the second seat of a box at the Chestnut-street
+theatre, found, when she went home, the back of her pelisse entirely
+spoilt, by some man behind not having succeeded in trying to spit past
+her--or perhaps he did not try. Why should ladies endure all this, that
+men may indulge in a vulgar and deleterious practice, pernicious to
+their own health, and which they cannot acquire without going through a
+seasoning of disgust and nausea?
+
+It is very unmannerly when a person begins to relate a circumstance or
+an anecdote, to stop them short by saying, "I have heard it before."
+Still worse, to say you do not wish to hear it at all. There are people
+who set themselves against listening to any thing that can possibly
+excite melancholy or painful feelings; and profess to hear nothing that
+may give them a sad or unpleasant sensation. Those who have so much
+tenderness for themselves, have usually but little tenderness for
+others. It is impossible to go through the world with perpetual sunshine
+over head, and unfading flowers under foot. Clouds will gather in the
+brightest sky, and weeds choke up the fairest primroses and violets.
+And we should all endeavour to prepare ourselves for these changes, by
+listening with sympathy to the manner in which they have affected
+others.
+
+No person of good feelings, good manners, or true refinement, will
+entertain their friends with minute descriptions of sickening horrors,
+such as barbarous executions, revolting punishments, or inhuman
+cruelties perpetrated on animals. We have never heard an officer dilate
+on the dreadful spectacle of a battlefield; a scene of which no
+description can ever present an adequate idea; and which no painter has
+ever exhibited in all its shocking and disgusting details. Physicians do
+not talk of the dissecting-room.
+
+Unless you are speaking to a physician, and are interested in a patient
+he is attending, refrain in conversation from entering into the
+particulars of revolting diseases, such as scrofula, ulcers, cutaneous
+afflictions, &c. and discuss no terrible operations--especially at
+table. There are women who seem to delight in dwelling on such
+disagreeable topics.
+
+If you are attending the sick-bed of a friend, and are called down to a
+visiter, speak of her illness with delicacy, and do not disclose all the
+unpleasant circumstances connected with it; things which it would grieve
+her to know, may, if once told, be circulated among married women, and
+by them repeated to their husbands. In truth, upon most occasions, a
+married woman is not a safe confidant. She will assuredly tell every
+thing to her husband; and in all probability to his mother and sisters
+also--that is, every thing concerning her friends--always, perhaps,
+under a strict injunction of secrecy. But a secret entrusted to more
+than two or three persons, is soon diffused throughout the whole
+community.
+
+A man of some humour was to read aloud a deed. He commenced with the
+words, "Know one woman by these presents." He was interrupted, and asked
+why he changed the words, which were in the usual form, "Know all men by
+these presents." "Oh!" said he, "'tis very certain that all men will
+soon know it, if one woman does."
+
+Generally speaking, it is injudicious for ladies to attempt arguing with
+gentlemen on political or financial topics. All the information that a
+woman can possibly acquire or remember on these subjects is so small, in
+comparison with the knowledge of men, that the discussion will not
+elevate them in the opinion of masculine minds. Still, it is well for a
+woman to desire enlightenment, that she may comprehend something of
+these discussions, when she hears them from the other sex; therefore let
+her listen as understandingly as she can, but refrain from controversy
+and argument on such topics as the grasp of a female mind is seldom
+capable of seizing or retaining. Men are very intolerant toward women
+who are prone to contradiction and contention, when the talk is of
+things considered out of their sphere; but very indulgent toward a
+modest and attentive listener, who only asks questions for the sake of
+information. Men like to dispense knowledge; but few of them believe
+that in departments exclusively their own, they can profit much by the
+suggestions of women. It is true there are and have been women who have
+distinguished themselves greatly in the higher branches of science and
+literature, and on whom the light of genius has clearly descended. But
+can the annals of woman produce a female Shakspeare, a female Milton, a
+Goldsmith, a Campbell, or a Scott? What woman has painted like Raphael
+or Titian, or like the best artists of our own times? Mrs. Darner and
+Mrs. Siddons had a talent for sculpture; so had Marie of Orleans, the
+accomplished daughter of Louis Philippe. Yet what are the productions of
+these talented ladies compared to those of Thorwaldsen, Canova,
+Chantrey, and the master chisels of the great American statuaries. Women
+have been excellent musicians, and have made fortunes by their voices.
+But is there among them a Mozart, a Bellini, a Michael Kelly, an Auber,
+a Boieldieu? Has a woman made an improvement on steam-engines, or on any
+thing connected with the mechanic arts? And yet these things have been
+done by men of no early education--by self-taught men. A good tailor
+fits, cuts out, and sews better than the most celebrated female
+dress-maker. A good man-cook far excels a good woman-cook. Whatever may
+be their merits as assistants, women are rarely found who are very
+successful at the head of any establishment that requires energy and
+originality of mind. Men make fortunes, women make livings. And none
+make poorer livings than those who waste their time, and bore their
+friends, by writing and lecturing upon the equality of the sexes, and
+what they call "Women's Rights." How is it that most of these ladies
+live separately from their husbands; either despising them, or being
+despised by them?
+
+Truth is, the female sex is really as inferior to the male in vigour of
+mind as in strength of body; and all arguments to the contrary are
+founded on a few anomalies, or based on theories that can never be
+reduced to practice. Because there was a Joan of Arc, and an Augustina
+of Saragossa, should females expose themselves to all the dangers and
+terrors of "the battle-field's dreadful array." The women of the
+American Revolution effected much good to their country's cause, without
+encroaching upon the province of its brave defenders. They were faithful
+and patriotic; but they left the conduct of that tremendous struggle to
+abler heads, stronger arms, and sterner hearts.
+
+We envy not the female who can look unmoved upon physical horrors--even
+the sickening horrors of the dissecting-room.
+
+Yet women are endowed with power to meet misfortune with fortitude; to
+endure pain with patience; to resign themselves calmly, piously, and
+hopefully to the last awful change that awaits every created being; to
+hazard their own lives for those that they love; to toil cheerfully and
+industriously for the support of their orphan children, or their aged
+parents; to watch with untiring tenderness the sick-bed of a friend, or
+even of a stranger; to limit their own expenses and their own pleasures,
+that they may have something to bestow on deserving objects of charity;
+to smooth the ruggedness of man; to soften his asperities of temper; to
+refine his manners; to make his home a happy one; and to improve the
+minds and hearts of their children. All this women can--and do. And this
+is their true mission.
+
+In talking with a stranger, if the conversation should turn toward
+sectarian religion, enquire to what church he belongs; and then mention
+your own church. This, among people of good sense and good manners, and
+we may add of true piety, will preclude all danger of remarks being made
+on either side which may be painful to either party. Happily we live in
+a land of universal toleration, where all religions are equal in the
+sight of the law and the government; and where no text is more powerful
+and more universally received than the wise and incontrovertible
+words--"By their fruits ye shall know them." He that acts well is a good
+man, and a religious man, at whatever altar he may worship. He that acts
+ill is a bad man, and has no true sense of religion; no matter how
+punctual his attendance at church, if of that church he is an unworthy
+member. Ostentatious sanctimony may deceive man, but it cannot deceive
+God.
+
+On this earth there are many roads to heaven; and each traveller
+supposes his own to be the best. But they must all unite in one road at
+the last. It is only Omniscience that can decide. And it will then be
+found that no sect is excluded because of its faith; or if its members
+have acted honestly and conscientiously according to the lights they
+had, and molesting no one for believing in the tenets of a different
+church. The religion of Jesus, as our Saviour left it to us, was one of
+peace and good-will to men, and of unlimited faith in the wisdom and
+goodness, and power and majesty of God. It is not for a frail human
+being to place limits to his mercy, and say what church is the only true
+one--and the only one that leads to salvation. Let all men keep in mind
+this self-evident truth--"He can't be wrong whose life is in the right;"
+and try to act up to the Divine command of "doing unto all men as you
+would they should do unto you."
+
+In America, no religious person of good sense or good manners ever
+attempts, in company, to controvert, uncalled for, the sectarian
+opinions of another. No clergyman that is a gentleman, (and they all are
+so, or ought to be,) ever will make the drawing-room an arena for
+religious disputation, or will offer a single deprecatory remark, on
+finding the person with whom he is conversing to be a member of a church
+essentially differing from his own. And if clergymen have that
+forbearance, it is doubly presumptuous for a woman, (perhaps a silly
+young girl,) to take such a liberty. "Fools rush in, where angels fear
+to tread."
+
+Nothing is more apt to defeat even a good purpose than the mistaken and
+ill-judged zeal of those that are not competent to understand it in all
+its bearings.
+
+Truly does the Scripture tell us--"There is a time for all things." We
+know an instance of a young lady at a ball attempting violently to make
+a proselyte of a gentleman of twice her age, a man of strong sense and
+high moral character, whose church (of which he was a sincere member)
+differed materially from her own. After listening awhile, he told her
+that a ball-room was no place for such discussions, and made his bow and
+left her. At another party we saw a young girl going round among the
+matrons, and trying to bring them all to a confession of faith.
+
+Religion is too sacred a subject for discussion at balls and parties.
+
+If you find that an intimate friend has a leaning toward the church in
+which you worship, first ascertain truly if her parents have no
+objection, and then, but not else, you may be justified in inducing her
+to adopt your opinions. Still, in most cases, it is best not to
+interfere.
+
+In giving your opinion of a new book, a picture, or a piece of music,
+when conversing with a distinguished author, an artist or a musician,
+say modestly, that "so it appears to _you_"--that "it has given _you_
+pleasure," or the contrary. But do not positively and dogmatically
+assert that it _is_ good, or that it _is_ bad. The person with whom you
+are talking is, in all probability, a far more competent judge than
+yourself; therefore, listen attentively, and he may correct your
+opinion, and set you right. If he fail to convince you, remain silent,
+or change the subject. Vulgar ladies have often a way of saying, when
+disputing on the merits of a thing they are incapable of understanding,
+"Any how, _I_ like it," or, "It is quite good enough for _me_."--Which
+is no proof of its being good enough for any body else.
+
+In being asked your candid opinion of a person, be very cautious to whom
+you confide that opinion; for if repeated as yours, it may lead to
+unpleasant consequences. It is only to an intimate and long-tried friend
+that you may safely entrust certain things, which if known, might
+produce mischief. Even very intimate friends are not always to be
+trusted, and when they have actually told something that they heard
+under the injunction of secrecy, they will consider it a sufficient
+atonement to say, "Indeed I did not mean to tell it, but somehow it
+slipped out;" or, "I really intended to guard the secret faithfully, but
+I was so questioned and cross-examined, and bewildered, that I knew not
+how to answer without disclosing enough to make them guess the whole. I
+am very sorry, and will try to be more cautious in future. But these
+slips of the tongue will happen."
+
+The lady whose confidence has been thus betrayed, should be "more
+cautious in future," and put no farther trust in she of the slippery
+tongue--giving her up, entirely, as unworthy of farther friendship.
+
+No circumstances will induce an honourable and right-minded woman to
+reveal a secret after promising secrecy. But she should refuse being
+made the depository of any extraordinary fact which it may be wrong to
+conceal, and wrong to disclose.
+
+We can scarcely find words sufficiently strong to contemn the heinous
+practice, so prevalent with low-minded people, of repeating to their
+friends whatever they hear to their disadvantage. By low-minded people,
+we do not exclusively mean persons of low station. The low-minded are
+not always "born in a garret, in a kitchen bred." Unhappily, there are
+(so-called) ladies--ladies of fortune and fashion--who will descend to
+meannesses of which the higher ranks ought to be considered incapable,
+and who, without compunction, will wantonly lacerate the feelings and
+mortify the self-love of those whom they call their friends, telling
+them what has been said about them by other friends.
+
+It is sometimes said of a notorious tatler and mischief-maker, that "she
+has, notwithstanding, a good heart." How is this possible, when it is
+her pastime to scatter dissension, ill-feeling, and unhappiness among
+all whom she calls her friends? She may, perhaps, give alms to beggars,
+or belong to sewing circles, or to Bible societies, or be officious in
+visiting the sick. All this is meritorious, and it is well if there is
+some good in her. But if she violates the charities of social life, and
+takes a malignant pleasure in giving pain, and causing trouble--depend
+on it, her show of benevolence is mere ostentation, and her acts of
+kindness spring not from the heart. She will convert the sewing circle
+into a scandal circle. If she is assiduous in visiting her sick friends,
+she will turn to the worst account, particulars she may thus acquire of
+the sanctities of private life and the humiliating mysteries of the
+sick-chamber.
+
+If indeed it can be possible that tatling and mischief-making may be
+only (as is sometimes alleged) a bad habit, proceeding from an inability
+to govern the tongue--shame on those who have allowed themselves to
+acquire such a habit, and who make no effort to subdue it, or who have
+encouraged it in their children, and perhaps set them the example.
+
+If you are so unfortunate as to know one of these pests of society, get
+rid of her acquaintance as soon as you can. If allowed to go on, she
+will infallibly bring you into some difficulty, if not into disgrace. If
+she begins by telling you--"I had a hard battle to fight in your behalf
+last evening at Mrs. Morley's. Miss Jewson, whom you believe to be one
+of your best friends, said some very severe things about you, which, to
+my surprise, were echoed by Miss Warden, who said she knew them to be
+true. But I contradicted them warmly. Still they would not be convinced,
+and said I must be blind and deaf not to know better. How very hard it
+is to distinguish those who love from those who hate us!"
+
+Instead of encouraging the mischief-maker to relate the particulars, and
+explain exactly what these severe things really were, the true and
+dignified course should be to say as calmly as you can--"I consider no
+person my friend, who comes to tell such things as must give me pain and
+mortification, and lessen my regard for those I have hitherto esteemed,
+and in whose society I have found pleasure. I have always liked Miss
+Jewson and Miss Warden, and am sorry to hear that they do not like _me_.
+Still, as I am not certain of the exact truth, (being in no place where
+I could myself overhear the discussion,) it will make no difference in
+my behaviour to those young ladies. And now then we will change the
+subject, never to resume it. My true friends do not bring me such
+tales."
+
+By-the-bye, tatlers are always listeners, and are frequently the
+atrocious writers of anonymous letters, for which they should be
+expelled from society.
+
+Let it be remembered that all who are capable of detailing unpleasant
+truths, (such as can answer no purpose but to produce bad feeling, and
+undying enmity,) are likewise capable of exaggerating and
+misrepresenting facts, that do not seem quite strong enough to excite
+much indignation. Tale-bearing always leads to lying. She who begins
+with the first of these vices, soon arrives at the second.
+
+Some prelude these atrocious communications with--"I think it my duty to
+tell how Miss Jackson and Mrs. Wilson talk about you, for it is right
+that you should know your friends from your enemies." You listen,
+believe, and from that time become the enemy of Miss Jackson and Mrs.
+Wilson--having too much pride to investigate the truth, and learn what
+they really said.
+
+Others will commence with--"I'm a plain-spoken woman, and consider it
+right, for your own sake, to inform you that since your return from
+Europe, you talk quite too much of your travels."
+
+You endeavour to defend yourself from this accusation, by replying that
+"having seen much when abroad, it is perfectly natural that you should
+allude to what you have seen."
+
+"Oh! but there should be moderation in all things. To be candid--your
+friend Mrs. Willet says she is tired of hearing of France and Italy."
+
+"Why then does she always try to get a seat next to me, and ask me to
+tell her something more of those countries?"
+
+"Well, I don't know. People are so deceitful! There is Mr. Liddard, who
+says you bore him to death with talking about England."
+
+"And yet whenever I do talk about England, I always find him at the back
+of my chair. And when I pause, he draws me on to say more."
+
+"Men are such flatterers! Well, I always tell the plain truth. So it is
+best you should know Colonel Greenfield declares that since your return
+from Europe you are absolutely intolerable. Excuse my telling you these
+things. It is only to show that every body else thinks just as I do.
+Mrs. Gray says it is a pity you ever crossed the Atlantic."
+
+Do not excuse her--but drop her acquaintance as soon as you can, without
+coming to a quarrel, in which case you will most probably get the worst.
+A plain-spoken woman is always to be dreaded. Her cold-blooded
+affectation of frankness is only a pretext to introduce something that
+will wound your feelings; and then she will tell you "that Mrs. A. B. C.
+and D., and Mr. E. and Mr. F. also, have said a hundred times that you
+are a woman of violent temper, and cannot listen to advice without
+flying into a passion."
+
+And she will quietly take her leave, informing you that she is your best
+friend, and that all she has said was entirely for your own good, and
+that she shall continue to admonish you whenever she sees occasion.
+
+A plain-spoken woman will tell you that you were thought to look very
+ill at Mrs. Thomson's party, your dress being rather in bad taste; that
+you ought to give up singing in company, your best friends saying that
+your style is now a little old-fashioned; that you should not attempt
+talking French to French ladies, as Mr. Leroux and Mr. Dufond say that
+your French is not quite Parisian, &c. &c. She will say these things
+upon no authority but her own.
+
+When any one prefaces an enquiry by the vulgarism, "If it is a fair
+question?" you may be very certain that the question is a most _un_fair
+one--that is, a question which it is impertinent to ask, and of no
+consequence whatever to the asker.
+
+If a person begins by telling you, "Do not be offended at what I am
+going to say," prepare yourself for something that she knows will
+certainly offend you. But as she has given you notice, try to listen,
+and answer with calmness.
+
+It is a delicate and thankless business to tell a friend of her faults,
+unless you are certain that, in return, you can bear without anger to
+hear her point out your own. She will undoubtedly recriminate.
+
+It is not true that an irritable temper cannot be controlled. It can,
+and is, whenever the worldly interest of the _enragée_ depends on its
+suppression.
+
+Frederick the Great severely reprimanded a Prussian officer for striking
+a soldier at a review. "I could not refrain," said the officer. "I have
+a high temper, your majesty, and I cannot avoid showing it, when I see a
+man looking sternly at me." "Yes, you can," replied the king. "I am
+looking sternly at you, and I am giving you ten times as much cause of
+offence as that poor soldier--yet you do not strike _me_."
+
+A naturally irritable disposition can always be tamed down, by a strong
+and persevering effort to subdue it, and by determining always to check
+it on its first approaches to passion. The indulgence of temper renders
+a man (and still more a woman) the dread and shame of the whole house.
+It wears out the affection of husbands, wives, and children--of brothers
+and sisters; destroys friendship; disturbs the enjoyment of social
+intercourse; causes incessant changing of servants; and is a constant
+source of misery to that most unhappy of all classes, poor relations.
+
+That a violent temper is generally accompanied by a good heart, is a
+popular fallacy. On the contrary, the indulgence of it hardens the
+heart. And even if its ebullitions are always succeeded by "compunctious
+visitings," and followed by apologies and expressions of regret, still
+it leaves wounds that time cannot always efface, and which we may
+forgive, but cannot forget.
+
+Ill-tempered women are very apt to call themselves nervous, and to
+attribute their violent fits of passion to a weakness of the nerves.
+This is not true. A real nervous affection shows itself "more in sorrow
+than in anger," producing tears, tremor, and head-ache, fears without
+adequate cause, and general depression of spirits--the feelings becoming
+tender to a fault.
+
+When a woman abandons herself to terrible fits of anger with little or
+no cause, and makes herself a frightful spectacle, by turning white
+with rage, rolling up her eyes, drawing in her lips, gritting her teeth,
+clenching her hands, and stamping her feet, depend on it, she is not of
+a nervous, but of a furious temperament. A looking-glass held before
+her, to let her see what a shocking object she has made herself, would,
+we think, have an excellent effect. We have seen but a few females in
+this revolting state, and only three of them were ladies--but we have
+heard of many.
+
+When the paroxysm is over, all the atonement she can make is to
+apologize humbly, and to pray contritely. If she has really any goodness
+of heart, and any true sense of religion, she will do this promptly, and
+prove her sincerity by being very kind to those whom she has outraged
+and insulted--and whose best course during these fits of fury is to make
+no answer, or to leave the room.
+
+As out of nothing, nothing can come, to be a good conversationist, you
+must have a well-stored mind, originality of ideas, and a retentive
+memory. Without making a lumber-room of your head, and stuffing it with
+all manner of useless and unnecessary things not worth retaining, you
+should select only such as are useful or ornamental, interesting or
+amusing. Your talk must flow as if spontaneously; one subject suggesting
+another, none being dwelt upon too long. Anecdotes may be introduced
+with much effect. They should be short, and related in such words as
+will give them the most point. We have heard the same anecdote told by
+two persons. With one it became prosy and tiresome, and the point was
+not perceptible from its being smothered in ill-chosen words. With the
+other narrator, the anecdote was "all light and spirit; soon told, and
+not soon forgotten." Brevity is the soul of wit, and wit is the soul of
+anecdote. And where wit is wanting, humour is an excellent substitute.
+Every body likes to laugh, or ought to. Yet there is a time for all
+things; and after listening to a serious or interesting incident well
+related, it is exceedingly annoying to hear some silly and heartless
+girl follow it with a ridiculous remark, intended to be funny--such as
+"Quite solemncolly!"--or, "We are all getting into the doldrums."
+
+You may chance to find yourself in a company where no one is capable of
+appreciating the best sort of conversation, and where to be understood,
+or indeed to keep them awake, you must talk down to the capacities of
+your hearers. You must manage this adroitly, or they may find you out,
+and be offended. So, after all, it is, perhaps, safest to go on and
+scatter pearls where wax beads would be equally valued. Only in such
+society, do not introduce quotations from the poets, especially from
+Shakspeare, or your hearers may wonder what queer words you are saying.
+Another time, and with congenial companions, you can indulge in "the
+feast of reason, and the flow of soul."
+
+If placed beside a lady so taciturn that no effort on your part can draw
+her out, or elicit more than a monosyllable, and that only at long
+intervals, you may safely conclude that there is nothing in her, and
+leave her to her own dullness, or to be enlivened by the approach of one
+of the other sex. That will make her talk.
+
+Few persons are good talkers who are not extensive and miscellaneous
+readers. You cannot attentively read the best authors without obtaining
+a great command of words, so that you can always, with ease and fluency,
+clothe your ideas in appropriate language.
+
+Knowledge is of course the basis of conversation--the root whose
+deepened strength and vigour gives life to the tree, multiplicity to its
+branches, and beauty to its foliage.
+
+Much that is bad and foolish in women would have no existence if their
+minds were less barren. In a waste field, worthless and bitter weeds
+will spring up which it is hard to eradicate; while a soil that is
+judiciously cultivated produces abundant grain, luxuriant grass, and
+beautiful flowers.
+
+There are ladies so exceedingly satisfied with themselves, and so
+desirous of being thought the special favourites of Providence, that
+they are always desiring to hold out an idea "that pain and sorrow can
+come not near them," and that they enjoy a happy exemption from "all the
+ills that flesh is heir to." They complain of nothing, for they profess
+to have nothing to complain of. They feel not the cold of winter, nor
+the heat of summer. The temperature is always exactly what _they_ like.
+To them the street is never muddy with rain, nor slippery with ice.
+Unwholesome food agrees perfectly with _them_. They sleep soundly in bad
+beds, or rather no beds are bad. Travelling never fatigues them. Nobody
+imposes on them, nobody offends them. Other people may be ill--they are
+always in good health and spirits. To them all books are
+delightful--all pictures beautiful--all music charming. Other people may
+have trouble with their children--_they_ have none. Other people may
+have bad servants--_theirs_ are always excellent.
+
+Now if all this were true, the lot of such persons would indeed be
+enviable, and we should endeavour to learn by what process such complete
+felicity has been attained--and why they see every thing through such a
+roseate medium. But it is not true. This is all overweening vanity, and
+a desire "to set themselves up above the rest of the world." We have
+always noticed that these over-fortunate, over-happy women have, in
+reality, a discontented, care-worn look, resulting from the incessant
+painful effort to seem what they are not. And if any body will take the
+trouble, it is very easy to catch them in discrepancies and
+contradictions. But it is not polite to do so. Therefore let them pass.
+
+As mothers are always on the _qui vive_, (and very naturally,) be
+careful what you say of their children. Unless he is a decidedly
+handsome man, you may give offence by remarking, "The boy is the very
+image of his father." If the mother is a vain woman, she would much
+rather hear that all the children are the very image of herself. Refrain
+from praising too much the children of another family, particularly if
+the two sets of children are cousins. It is often dangerous to tell a
+mother that "little Willy is growing quite handsome." She will probably
+answer, "I had hoped my child was handsome always." With some mothers it
+is especially imprudent to remark that "little Mary looks like her
+aunt, or her grandmother." Again, if you prudently say nothing about the
+looks of the little dears, you may be suspected and perhaps accused of
+taking no interest in children. Young ladies, when in presence of
+gentlemen, are too apt to go on the other extreme, and over-act their
+parts, in the excessive fondling and kissing and hugging of children not
+in the least engaging, or even good-looking. We cannot believe that any
+female, not the mother, can really fall into raptures with a cross, ugly
+child. But how pleasant it is to play with and amuse, an intelligent,
+affectionate, and good-tempered little thing, to hear its innocent
+sayings, and to see the first buddings of its infant mind.
+
+When you are visiting another city, and receiving civilities from some
+of its inhabitants, it is an ill requital for their attentions to
+disparage their place, and glorify your own. In every town there is
+something to praise; and in large cities there is a great deal to amuse,
+to interest, and to give pleasure. Yet there are travellers who (like
+Smelfungus) are never satisfied with the place they are in--who exclaim
+all the time against the east winds of Boston, the sea-air of New York,
+the summer heats of Philadelphia, the hilly streets of Baltimore, and
+the dusty avenues of Washington. We have heard people from New Orleans
+call Philadelphia the hottest city in the Union, and people from Quebec
+call it the coldest. If there are two successive days of rain, then poor
+Philadelphia is the rainiest of all places. If it snows twice in two
+weeks, then it is the snowiest. If a fire breaks out, it is the city of
+fires. If there is an Irish fight in Moyamensing, it is the city of
+perpetual riots. By-the-bye, after that summer when we really had
+several successive riots up-town, and down-town, we saw an English
+caricature of the City of Brotherly Love, where the spirit of William
+Penn, in hat and wig, was looking down sadly from the clouds at the
+rioters, who were all represented as Quakers, in strait, plain clothes,
+and broad brims, knocking each other about with sticks and stones,
+firing pistols, and slashing with bowie-knives. Alas, poor Quakers! how
+guiltless ye were of all this! It is a common belief in England, that of
+this sect are _all_ the people of Pennsylvania.
+
+In talking to an elderly lady, it is justly considered very rude to make
+any allusion to her age; even if she is unmistakeably an old woman, and
+acknowledges it herself. For instance, do not say--"This silk of yours
+is very suitable for an elderly person"--or--"Will you take this
+chair?--an old lady like you will find it very comfortable"--or--"Look,
+baby--is not that grandma?"--or--"I told the servant to attend first to
+you, on account of your age"--or--"Children, don't make such a
+noise--have you no respect for old people?"
+
+All this we have heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+INCORRECT WORDS.
+
+
+Every one who sees much of the world must observe with pain and surprise
+various unaccountable instances of improper and incorrect words that
+sometimes disfigure the phraseology of females who have gone through a
+course of fashionable education, and mixed in what is really genteel
+society. These instances, it is true, are becoming every day more rare;
+but we regret that they should exist at all. Early impressions are hard
+to eradicate. Bad habits of speaking are formed in childhood: sometimes
+from the society of illiterate parents, but more frequently from that of
+nurses and servants; and if not corrected or shaken off in due time,
+will cling like burrs to the diction of women who are really ladies in
+every thing else. Such women will say "that there," and "this
+here"--"them girls"--"them boys"--"I don't want no more"--"I didn't hear
+nothing about it"--"I didn't see nobody there"--"I won't do so no more."
+And other similar violations of grammar; and grammar is never more
+palpably outraged than when two negatives are used for an affirmative.
+It is surely shorter and easier to say, "I want no more"--"I heard
+nothing about it"--"I saw nobody there"--"I will do so no more."
+
+Another grammatical error, less glaring, but equally incorrect, is the
+too common practice of converting a certainty into an uncertainty by
+saying, "I have no doubt but he was there." As if his being there was
+your only doubt. You should say, "I have no doubt of his being there."
+"I have no doubt but that he wrote it," seems to signify that you do
+doubt his writing it, and that you are nearly sure he did not. The
+proper phrase is, "I have no doubt of his writing it." "I do not doubt
+but that she knew it long ago," implies that you do doubt her having
+known it. It should be, "I do not doubt her knowing it long ago." Leave
+out _but_, when you talk of doubting.
+
+No word is proper that does not express the true meaning. For instance,
+it is not right to call a township a town. A township is a section of
+land that may consist entirely of forests and farms, and may not
+comprise even a small village or hamlet. A town resembles a city in
+being closely built up with streets of adjoining houses. Men cannot go
+fishing or hunting in a _town_, though they may in a township. We are
+surprised to find this misapplication of the word among some of the most
+distinguished of the New-England _literati_. Perhaps it explains
+Jonathan's perplexity in one of the old Yankee Doodle songs:
+
+    "He said he couldn't see the town,
+      There were so many houses."
+
+We hope it is not necessary to caution our readers against the most
+provincial of Yankee provincialisms, such as, "I hadn't ought," or "I
+shouldn't ought"--or "It warn't," instead of "It was not"--or the
+exclamations, "Do tell!" or "I want to know," ejaculated as a token of
+surprise the moment after you have told, and made known. The common
+English habit, or rather a habit of the common English, of using
+continually the words "you know," and "you know," is very tiresome,
+particularly when they are talking of something that you cannot possibly
+be acquainted with. Check them by saying, "No, I do not know." They also
+make great use of the word "monstrous"--ugly as that word is. Do not
+imitate them in saying that you are "monstrous glad," or "monstrous
+sorry," or "monstrous tired," or that a young lady is "monstrous
+pretty." We have heard even "monstrous little."
+
+We advise our New-England friends to eschew, both in speaking and
+writing, all Yankee phrases that do not convey the exact meaning of the
+words. For instance, to "_turn out_ the tea," instead of to "_pour_ it
+out." There can be no turn given, in this process, to the spout or
+handle of the tea-pot. On the contrary, it cannot pour well unless it is
+held straight. To "cut the eggs," instead of to beat them. The motion of
+beating eggs does not cut them. "Braiding eggs," is still worse. But we
+believe that this braiding is not the same as cutting. What is it?
+
+Two young officers were travelling in the far West when they stopped to
+take supper at a small road-side tavern, kept by a very rough Yankee
+woman. The landlady, in a calico sun-bonnet, and bare feet, stood at
+the head of the table to pour out. She enquired of her guests, "if they
+chose long sweetening, or short sweetening in their coffee." The first
+officer, supposing that "long sweetening" meant a large portion of that
+article, chose it accordingly. What was his dismay when he saw their
+hostess dip her finger deep down into an earthen jar of honey that stood
+near her, and then stir it (the finger) round in the coffee. His
+companion, seeing this, preferred "short sweetening." Upon which the
+woman picked up a large lump of maple sugar that lay in a brown paper on
+the floor beside her, and biting off a piece, put it into his cup. Both
+the gentlemen dispensed with coffee that evening. This anecdote we heard
+from the sister of one of those officers.
+
+"Emptyings" is not a good name for yeast. "Up chamber, up garret, down
+cellar," are all wrong. Why not say, "up in the chamber, up in the
+garret, down in the kitchen, down in the cellar" &c.? Why should a
+mirthful fit of laughter be called "a gale"? "Last evening we were all
+in such a gale!"
+
+Snow and ice are not the same. Therefore a snowball should not be called
+an ice-ball, which latter might be a very dangerous missile.
+
+Pincushions are pincushions, and not pin-balls, unless they are of a
+globular shape. If in the form of hearts, diamonds, &c., they are not
+balls.
+
+When you are greatly fatigued, say so--and not that you are "almost beat
+out." When the Yankees are "beat out," the English are quite "knocked
+up." The English are "starved with cold"--Americans only starve with
+hunger. They may perish with cold; but unless hunger is added, they will
+not starve.
+
+It is wrong to say that certain articles of food are healthy or
+unhealthy. Wholesome and unwholesome are the right words. A pig may be
+healthy or unhealthy while alive; but after he is killed and becomes
+pork, he can enjoy no health, and suffer no sickness.
+
+If you have been accustomed to pronounce the word "does" as "doos," get
+rid of the custom as soon as you can. Also, give up saying "pint" for
+"point," "jint" for "joint," "anint" for "anoint," &c. Above all, cease
+saying "featur, creatur, natur, and raptur."
+
+In New England it is not uncommon to hear the word "ugly" applied to a
+bad temper. We have heard, "He will never do for president, because he
+is so ugly." On our observing that we had always considered the
+gentleman in question, as rather a handsome man, it was explained that
+he was considered ugly in disposition.
+
+A British traveller, walking one day in a suburb of Boston, saw a woman
+out on a door-step whipping a screaming child. "Good woman," said the
+stranger, "why do you whip that boy so severely?" She answered, "I
+_will_ whip him, because he is so ugly." The Englishman walked on; but
+put down in his journal that "American mothers are so cruel as to beat
+their children, merely because they are not handsome."
+
+No genteel Bostonian should call Faneuil Hall, "Old Funnel," or talk of
+the "Quinsey market," instead of Quincy, or speak of "Bacon street," or
+"Bacon Hill." That place was so called from a beacon, or signal-pole
+with a light at the top, and never was particularly celebrated for the
+pickling and smoking of pork.
+
+The word "slump," or "slumped," has too coarse a sound to be used by a
+lady.
+
+When you have exchanged one article for another, say so, and not that
+you have "traded it."
+
+Do not say, "I should admire to read that book," "I should admire to
+hear that song," "I should admire to see the president." Substitute, "I
+should like to read that book," "I should like to hear that song," "I
+should like to see the president."
+
+Using the word "love" instead of "like" is not peculiar to the ladies of
+any section of the Union. But they may assure themselves it is wrong to
+talk of _loving_ any thing that is eatable. They may _like_ terrapins,
+oysters, chicken-salad, or ice-cream; but they need not _love_ terrapins
+or oysters, or _love_ chicken-salad.
+
+We remember, in the farce of Modern Antiques, laughing at an awkward
+servant-girl bringing in a dish of salad to a supper-table, before the
+company had assembled, and, after taking a large bite, turning her
+foolish face toward the audience, and saying, "I loves beet-root."
+
+Even if you are a provincial New-Yorker, give up calling the door-step
+or porch by the ancient Dutch name of "stoop," (stoep,) and do not talk
+of going out on the stoop, or sitting in the stoop. When a load of wood
+or coal is put down at your door, say not that it is "dumped." Never
+speak of visiting friends that "live to Brooklyn," or "live to Newark."
+They live _at_ those places, not _to_ them. The word "muss" sounds
+badly, when a young lady says, "her scarf is mussed," or her collar is
+"mussed"--or that her bureau drawers are all in a muss. The English
+synonyme, "mess," has _rather_ a better sound. Be it also remembered
+that a stool is not a bench. A bench holds several people, a stool but
+one.
+
+When you mean that an article of dress (a bonnet or a cap) is neat and
+pretty, do not say that it is cunning. An inanimate object cannot be
+cunning. To be cunning requires some mind. We are sorry to say that we
+have heard females who, when they intend to be witty, talk of taking a
+snooze, (which means a nap,) and speak of a comic anecdote as being
+"rich," and of a man in faded clothes as looking "seedy." We have heard
+Philadelphia ladies speak of a "great big" house, or a "great big" ship;
+and there are still some who _expect_ what has already come to pass--as,
+"I expect it rained somewhere last night"--"I expect she arrived
+yesterday"--"I expect he went to Baltimore." In all these cases the
+proper term is "I suppose," and not "I expect."
+
+The word "mayhap" (instead of perhaps) is a positive vulgarism. It is of
+English origin, but is only used in England by very low people--and by
+English writers, never.
+
+We have little tolerance for young ladies, who, having in reality
+neither wit nor humour, set up for both, and having nothing of the
+right stock to go upon, substitute coarseness and impertinence, (not to
+say impudence,) and try to excite laughter, and attract the attention of
+gentlemen, by talking slang. Where do they get it? How do they pick it
+up? From low newspapers, or from vulgar books? Surely not from low
+companions?
+
+We have heard one of these ladies, when her collar chanced to be pinned
+awry, say that it was put on drunk--also that her bonnet was drunk,
+meaning crooked on her head. When disconcerted, she was "floored." When
+submitting to do a thing unwillingly, "she was brought to the scratch."
+Sometimes "she did things on the sly." She talked of a certain great
+vocalist "singing like a beast." She believed it very smart and piquant
+to use these vile expressions. It is true, when at parties, she always
+had half a dozen gentlemen about her; their curiosity being excited as
+to what she would say next. And yet she was a woman of many good
+qualities; and one who boasted of having always "lived in society."
+
+We think that gentlemen lose a particle of their respect for young
+ladies who allow their names to be abbreviated into such cognomens as
+Kate, Madge, Bess, Nell, &c. Surely it is more lady-like to be called
+Catharine, Margaret, Eliza, or Ellen. We have heard the beautiful name
+Virginia degraded into Jinny; and Harriet called Hatty, or even Hadge.
+
+A very silly practice has been introduced of writing Sally,
+Sallie--Fanny, Fannie--Mary, Marie--Abby, Abbie, &c. What would our
+grand-parents have thought of Pollie, Mollie, Peggie, Kittie, Nancie?
+Suppose young men were to adopt it, and sign themselves, Sammie, Billie,
+Dickie, Tommie, &c.!
+
+By-the-bye, unless he is a relation, let no young lady address a
+gentleman by his Christian name. It is a familiarity which he will not
+like.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+BORROWING.
+
+
+Any article you are likely to want on more than one occasion, it is
+better to buy than to borrow. If your own, you can have it always at
+hand: you will lay yourself under no obligation to a lender, and incur
+no responsibility as to its safety while in your possession. But when
+you _do_ borrow, see that the article is speedily returned. And, under
+no consideration, take the liberty of lending it to any person whatever,
+before restoring it to the owner. Apologies and expressions of regret
+are no compensation, should it be out of your power to replace it if
+injured or lost.
+
+When you ask to borrow a thing, do not say, "Will you _loan_ it to me?"
+The word "loan" is, by good talkers, and good writers, never used but as
+a substantive: notwithstanding that Johnson gives it as a verb also, but
+only on one obscure authority--and Johnson is not now regarded as
+infallible. To _lend_, not to _loan_, is the usual and proper
+expression. As a substantive it is generally employed in a commercial
+and political sense, or to denote a large sum borrowed for a public and
+important purpose. It is true you can say, "May I request the loan of
+your fan?" "Will you permit me to ask the loan of this book?" But it is
+much easier and smoother to say simply, "Will you lend me your fan for a
+few minutes?" "Will you be kind enough to lend me this book?"
+
+No articles, perhaps, are more frequently borrowed than umbrellas, and
+none are returned with so little punctuality. Frequently, a borrowed
+umbrella is never thought of by the borrower, till after the weather
+clears up; the lender, most probably, suffering inconvenience for want
+of it. Often it is detained till the next rain, when the lender has to
+take the trouble of sending for it. And then it is very possible it may
+not be found at all; some person in the mean time having nefariously
+carried it off. In such a case, it is a matter of common honesty for the
+careless borrower to replace that umbrella with a new one; as she is not
+to suppose that empty expressions of regret or unmeaning apologies will
+be sufficient compensation for a substantial loss.
+
+To avoid any difficulties concerning umbrellas, it is safest, in cloudy
+weather, not to leave home without one. Many persons venture out beneath
+a threatening sky, unwilling to encumber themselves with an umbrella,
+which (possibly) they may not chance to require before they got home.
+Their dependance is on stopping in at the house of a friend, and
+borrowing one there. But is it not better to incommode yourself a little
+by carrying a closed umbrella, even if you should _not_ find occasion to
+use it, than to hasten rapidly through the street to reach a shelter
+when you find the rain beginning to drop; and afterwards to deprive your
+friend, even temporarily, of an article which the wet weather may
+render it inconvenient to spare. Also, you may be caught by a sudden
+shower, at a considerable distance from the dwelling of the person with
+whom you are acquainted, and you may find the omnibuses all full, (as
+they generally are when it rains,) and no other vehicle in sight.
+Therefore, when the wind is in a rainy quarter, and the sky louring, be
+always on the safe side, and take an umbrella with you on leaving home.
+
+Every lady should own a small light umbrella, or else a very large
+parasol, of extra size, covered with strong India silk that will not
+easily tear or fade, and that may be used, on occasion, for either sun
+or rain; and that will not be cumbrous to carry, though quite large
+enough to shelter _one_ person. In truth, we have found but few
+umbrellas, however large, that could effectually cover _two_ persons
+(unless they were people of very small size) so that the rain did not
+drop upon the off-shoulder of one or the other. You cannot be well
+screened by an umbrella, unless you carry it all the time steadily in
+your _own_ hands, and over yourself alone. And politeness requires that
+you should give your companion the best of the shelter. So when two
+ladies go out together, the clouds portending rain, let each take an
+umbrella for herself, and then much injury to bonnets and shawls may be
+avoided.
+
+These small light umbrellas are excellent to travel with, and especially
+useful in the transit from car to steamboat, or even from the house to
+the carriage. When not in "actual service," keep this umbrella beside
+you with your shawl and your travelling satchel. It will be useful
+during the journey, if packed away in a trunk.[15]
+
+When you purchase an umbrella, desire that, before sending it home, your
+name be engraved on the little plate at the termination of the handle,
+or else on the slide. "To make assurance doubly sure," you may get the
+name painted in full in small white or yellow letters on the _inside_ of
+one of the gores of silk. These letters will not be conspicuous on the
+outside, but they will always serve to identify the umbrella. Your
+residence (if permanent) may be added. When about to travel, sew a small
+card with your address near the bottom of one of the gores inside. This
+card may be changed when staying at a new place. With these precautions,
+and a little care, (unless you are habitually thoughtless and
+forgetful,) you may carry an umbrella from Maine to Florida without
+losing it.
+
+All the members of a family should be provided with at least one
+rain-umbrella of their own, and these should be kept up-stairs when not
+likely to be wanted. There is always great danger of their being
+purloined, or _borrowed_, if left in the hall. Persons who would not,
+for the world, be known to pilfer a single cent, are by no means
+particular with regard to detaining an umbrella or a book.
+
+Umbrellas for the kitchen can now be had as low as seventy-five cents,
+or one dollar. If of coloured cotton (brown or blue) and highly glazed,
+they will turn off a moderate rain very well, but a drenching shower may
+cause the dye or colouring to run in streams. For very common use,
+though higher in price, the best are of oil-cloth, or of brown
+unbleached linen. The handsomest umbrellas are of blue or brown India
+silk, with steel frames, and a small silver name-plate on the handle. A
+green silk umbrella will soon be spoiled by the rain, and none look so
+badly in a short time. We have known a lady's bonnet entirely ruined by
+the drippings from a green parasol, hastily put up as a small screen
+from a sudden shower. No colour stands the sun and damp so badly as
+green.
+
+After borrowing an umbrella, fail not to send it back immediately,
+unless you have previously ascertained from the owner that it will not
+be wanted for two or three hours. In that case, you will have time to
+dry it before it goes home; and this should be done as soon as possible,
+that it may be returned in good order. If left in the entry or hall, it
+may be carried off; or, in plain words, stolen. Let it be dried under
+your own inspection, spreading it wide open, and standing it on the
+floor. If dried fast, and in an expanded position, the wetting will not
+perceptibly injure it. But if left shut and standing up closed, with the
+wet soaking into the umbrella, it will dry in discoloured streaks, and
+be spoiled. If the spring or any other part of a borrowed umbrella gets
+broken or injured while in your possession, be sure to have it repaired
+before sending home. There is a meanness verging on dishonesty in
+leaving this to be done by the owner.
+
+If the cheap or common umbrellas are given up to the care of the
+domestics, and kept in the kitchen, in all probability they will soon
+disappear altogether, and be no longer forthcoming when wanted. They
+will lend them to their friends, and lose them in various ways. The
+umbrellas should be kept in some small room or closet up-stairs; and
+when required, the servants should come and ask for them; bringing them
+back when done with, and dried.
+
+When you go out to tea, even in a summer evening, carry a shawl on your
+arm to throw over your shoulders before coming out into the night-air.
+This will preclude the necessity of borrowing one of your friend, should
+the weather have changed and grown cooler. Also, to prevent any risk
+from damp pavements, take with you a pair of over-shoes, (India-rubber,
+of course,) or else a pair of inside-soles, such as you can conveniently
+slip into your pocket. We have found no inside-soles equal to those of
+lamb-skin with the wool left on the upper-side; the under-side of the
+skin being coated with India-rubber varnish to render them water-proof.
+These soles are both warm and dry, and are far pleasanter than cork
+soles covered with flannel, and more lasting. But if you are obliged to
+borrow things to wear home, see that they are sent back next morning, if
+not the same evening, and in good order--the shawl well-dried from the
+damp, and folded smoothly, and the over-shoes cleaned nicely.
+
+Always take a fan with you on going to a place of public amusement. You
+will be sure to require it, and it is better than to depend on fanning
+yourself with the bill or programme, or borrowing the fan of a more
+provident friend, and perhaps forgetting to return it.
+
+With regard to the practice of borrowing articles of household use, it
+is generally a custom "more honoured in the breach than the observance,"
+particularly when living in a place where all such things can be easily
+obtained by sending to the shops. There are persons who, with ample
+means of providing themselves with all that is necessary for domestic
+service, are continually troubling their neighbours for the loan of a
+hammer, a screw-driver, a gimlet, a carpet-stretcher, a bed-stead screw,
+a fluting-iron, a preserving kettle, jelly-moulds, ice-cream freezers,
+&c. &c. If these or any other articles _must_ be borrowed, let them be
+returned promptly, and in good order.
+
+If, in consequence of the unexpected arrival of company, any thing for
+the table is borrowed of a neighbour, such as tea, coffee, butter, &c.,
+see that it is punctually returned; equal in quantity, and in quality;
+or rather superior. Habitual borrowers are very apt to forget this piece
+of honesty, either neglecting to return the things at all, or meanly
+substituting inferior articles--or perhaps laying themselves under such
+an imputation without actually deserving it, should the lender be
+ill-natured or untruthful. There is a homely proverb, "To go a-borrowing
+is to go a-sorrowing."
+
+We have been told of a very aristocratic but very economical lady, in
+one of our large cities, who was in the almost daily practice of
+borrowing things of a neighbour to whom she never condescended to speak.
+On one occasion she borrowed the use of that neighbour's fire to roast a
+pair of fowls.
+
+Avoid borrowing change, or small sums. It is possible that you may
+really forget to repay them; but then it is also possible that you may
+be suspected of forgetting wilfully. So do not trust much to your
+memory. It is a true remark, that there are few instances of a borrower
+being so oblivious as to offer twice over the return of a small loan,
+forgetting that it had been paid already.
+
+In borrowing a dress as a pattern, it is safest not to try it upon
+yourself, lest some part of the body should be stretched or frayed.
+Also, in trying on a bonnet or cap that is not your own, refrain from
+tying the strings; as every tying will give them additional wrinkles or
+rumples, and perhaps somewhat soil them. Never put on another person's
+gloves.
+
+Should you be staying at a boarding-house, do not depend on "the lady in
+the next room," or any other lady, to lend you things which you can
+procure quite as easily as she can. Keep yourself always provided with
+pen, ink, and paper, envelopes, wafers, sealing-wax, pencils,
+post-office stamps, &c. Also with sewing implements.
+
+When a friend lends you a handkerchief, a collar, or any other washable
+article, see that it is nicely washed, and done up, before returning it
+to her,--and do so promptly. If an article of jewellery, carry it back
+to her yourself, and put it into her own hand, to preclude all risk of
+loss. She will not be so ungenerous as to tell any person that she has
+lent it to you; and will for a while afterward, refrain from wearing it
+herself, in any company where it may be recognized.
+
+Should a visiter accidentally leave her handkerchief at your house, have
+it washed and ironed before restoring it to her.
+
+On borrowing a book, immediately put a cover upon it--and let the cover
+be of clean, smooth, white or light-coloured paper. What is called
+nankeen paper is best and strongest for this purpose. Newspaper, or any
+paper that is printed, makes a vile book-cover. Beside its mean and
+dirty appearance, the printing-ink will not only soil your own hands
+while reading, but will do more injury to the binding than if it was
+left uncovered.
+
+To cover a book neatly--take a sheet of nice paper of more than
+sufficient size, and lay the book open upon it. Cut a notch or
+indentation at the top and bottom of this paper, so as to admit the back
+of the book, making the notch exactly the width of the back, and two or
+three inches deep. Fold down the edges of the paper straightly,
+smoothly, and evenly, over the edges of the binding or cover. Fold the
+corners of the paper nicely underneath, (trimming off the superfluous
+paper that turns under,) making them lie as flat as possible. You may
+secure all the folds at the corners with small wafers, pins, or
+paste-cement. If you use pins, take care to stick them so as not to
+scratch the inside of the binding, or to prick and tear the fly-leaves.
+The paper-cover should not only be strong, but smooth also; if coarse
+and rough, it will injure the binding. When you send the book home, put
+it up neatly, so as to make a well-looking package; secured with either
+a string or a seal, and direct it to the owner.
+
+If the book is a pamphlet, and the sewing-thread gives way, sew it
+again, with a large needle and a strong brown thread--not white cotton.
+If not sewed immediately, it will fall apart, and some leaves may drop
+out, and be lost. If, by any unlucky accident, a leaf is torn, lay the
+two pieces nicely together, and sew them, lightly, with a rather fine
+thread. But if one side of the torn page is blank, it will be best to
+mend it by pasting a small narrow slip of white paper underneath, so as
+to unite the torn edges neatly.
+
+You may have excellent paste or cement, continually at hand, by buying
+at a druggist's an ounce of the _best and cleanest_ gum tragacanth, with
+a little bit of corrosive sublimate not larger than a grain of corn, and
+dissolving them in a large half-pint of clear water, either warm or
+cold. Pick the gum tragacanth very clean, freeing it carefully from all
+dust and impurities. Put it with the corrosive sublimate into a white or
+queensware vessel having a close cover, and holding a pint, to allow for
+swelling. Pour on the water; cover it closely; and stir it _with a
+stick_, several times during the day. When sufficiently dissolved, the
+paste will be smooth throughout. The corrosive sublimate will cause it
+to keep good for a year or more; and it is an excellent and most
+convenient cement for all purposes, from wall-paper to artificial
+flowers. It must on no account be kept in a metal vessel or be stirred
+with a metal spoon, as it will then turn black. No house should be
+without this paste--and it should find a place in every library and
+office. When it is nearly used up, and becomes dry at the bottom, pour
+on a little water, and it will dissolve again.
+
+Make no remarks with pen or pencil on the margin of any book that does
+not belong to yourself. Whatever may be your own opinion of certain
+passages, you have no right to disturb other readers by obtruding upon
+them these opinions, unasked for. The pleasure of reading a book from a
+public library, is frequently marred by finding, as you proceed, that
+some impertinent fools have been before you, and scribbled their silly
+comments all through; or indulged in sneers and vituperations directed
+at the author. You may lessen this annoyance by turning over all the
+leaves before you begin reading, and erasing all the marginal remarks
+with India rubber; and this will also be an act of kindness to the next
+reader after yourself. When written with ink, (as is often the case,)
+there is no remedy; and you must endure the infliction of being annoyed
+throughout the book by these gratuitous criticisms. In a book, even
+belonging to yourself, it is well to use the pencil sparingly; and only
+to correct an error of the press, or a chronological mistake of the
+author. All readers like to form their own opinions as they go along,
+without any prompting from those who have preceded them.
+
+Never, on any consideration, allow yourself to lend a borrowed book. If
+requested to do so, it should be a sufficient excuse to say that "it is
+not your own." But if still urged, persist in declining steadily; for it
+is a liberty you have no right to take with any article belonging to
+another. Even if the owner is your sister, you should lend nothing of
+hers without first obtaining her permission. Whatever you borrow
+yourself, should pass safely from your hands to those of the owner. If a
+friend of yours is very desirous of reading a borrowed book, and has no
+other means of obtaining it, and you think you can depend on her
+carefulness and punctuality, (not else,) you may promise "to request for
+her the favour." And when the owner has consented, (and not till then,)
+you may transfer the book to the new borrower with strict injunctions to
+take great care of it, and to return it as soon as possible.
+
+I have known a borrowed book travel round a whole circle of relations
+and acquaintances, till, when sent home at last, it was literally worn
+out by dint of use. And this when nearly the whole set were persons who
+could well afford to buy all they were desirous of reading. Many ladies
+like very well to read when they can do so at the cost of their friends;
+but they seem to regard the purchase of any thing to improve the mind,
+or amuse the fancy, as throwing away money which they would expend more
+to their satisfaction in articles of personal decoration. And is it not
+melancholy to see an intelligent child craving in vain for books, while
+bedizened with finery to gratify the vanity of an ostentatious mother?
+
+If, with the permission of the owner, you have lent a borrowed book to a
+person who, having lost or injured it, still has the presumption to ask
+you to intercede for the loan of another, you are bound to refuse the
+request; and do so with civility but steadiness, assigning the true
+reason. It may be a salutary lesson to that borrower.
+
+Remember never to send home any article in a wrapper of newspaper. Keep
+always in the house a supply of good wrapping-paper, bought for the
+purpose, and also of balls of twine. For putting up small things, what
+is called shoe-paper is very useful. It is both nice and cheap, selling
+from fifty to sixty cents per ream, according to the size, and there are
+twenty quires in a ream. There are varieties of stronger and larger
+wrapping-paper for articles that require such, and for parcels that are
+to be sent to far-off places, or to go by public conveyances. Such
+packages are best secured by red tape and sealing-wax. At every
+stationer's may be purchased all varieties of paper.
+
+Be particularly careful of borrowed magazines, as the loss of one number
+spoils a whole set, and you may find great difficulty in replacing a
+lost number. Even a newspaper should be punctually returned. The owner
+may wish to file it, or to send it away to a friend. If lost or defaced
+while in your possession, send to the publishing-office and buy another.
+It is unsafe to leave the book you are reading in the parlour of a
+hotel. Always carry it away with you, whenever you quit the
+room--otherwise you will be likely to see it no more.
+
+In America, books are so cheap (not to mention the numerous public
+libraries) that in most instances all who can afford it had better buy
+than borrow, particularly such works as are worth a second reading. If
+you find your books accumulating inconveniently, give away a portion of
+them to some lover of reading, who, less fortunate than yourself, is
+unable to expend much money with the booksellers.
+
+I have often wondered to see a fair young stranger sitting day after
+day, idle and listless in the drawing-room of a hotel, when she might
+have known that there were bookstores in the immediate neighbourhood.
+
+If, while in your possession, a borrowed book is irreparably injured, it
+is your duty to replace it by purchasing for the owner another copy.
+And, if that cannot be procured, all you can do is to buy a work of
+equal value, and to present _that_, as the only compensation in your
+power. Observe the same rule with all borrowed articles, lost or
+injured. The lender is surely not the person to suffer from the
+carelessness of the borrower. Leave no borrowed books in the way of
+children, and never give a young child a book to play with. Eat no cake
+or fruit over an open book, lest it be greased or stained. And take care
+not to blister or spoil the binding by putting it down in a wet place,
+for instance, on a slopped table.
+
+Some young ladies have a bad habit of biting their fingers, especially
+if they rejoice in handsome hands; and the same ladies, by way of
+variety, are prone to bite the corners of books, and the edges of
+closed fans. So it is dangerous to trust these articles in their
+vicinity. We have seen the corners of an elegant Annual nearly bitten
+off at a centre-table in the course of one evening. And we have seen
+ice-cream eaten and wine drank over an open port-folio of beautiful
+engravings.
+
+By-the-bye, in taking up a print to look at it, always extend it
+carefully with both hands, that the paper may be in no danger of
+cracking or rumpling, which it cannot escape if held but in one hand,
+particularly if there is a breeze blowing near it. To show a large
+engraving without risk of injury, spread it out smoothly on a table;
+keeping it flat by means of books or other weights, laid carefully down
+on the corners, and, if the plate is _very_ large, at the sides also.
+And let no one lean their elbows upon it.
+
+It is an irksome task to show any sort of picture to people who have
+neither taste, knowledge, nor enjoyment of the art. There are persons
+(ungenteel ones, it is true) who seem to have no other pleasure, when
+looking at a fine print or picture, than in trying to discover in the
+figures or faces, fancied resemblances to those of some individuals of
+their own circle: loudly declaring for instance, that, "Queen Victoria
+is the very image of Sarah Smith;" "Prince Albert an exact likeness of
+Dick Brown;" "the Duke of Wellington the very ditto of old Captain
+Jones," &c. &c. To those "who have no painting in their souls," there is
+little use in showing or explaining any fine specimen of that noblest of
+the fine arts. We have heard a gentleman doubting whether a capital
+portrait of Franklin was not General Washington in his everyday dress.
+We could fill pages with the absurd remarks we have heard on pictures,
+even from persons who have had a costly education put at them. There are
+ladies who can with difficulty be made to understand the difference
+between a painting and an engraving--others who think that "the same man
+always makes both." Some call a coloured print a painting--others
+talk[16] of themselves _painting pictures_ in albums--not understanding
+that, properly speaking, they are water-colour drawings when done on
+paper and with transparent tintings--while _pictures_ are painted with
+oil or opaque colours on canvas or board. Frescoes are painted on new
+walls before the plastering is quite dry, so that the colours
+incorporate at once with the plaster, and dry along with it; acquiring
+in that manner a surprising permanency.
+
+There is another very common error, that of calling a diorama a
+panorama. A panorama, correctly speaking, is a large circular
+representation of one place only, (such as Rome, Athens, Thebes, Paris,)
+comprising as much as the eye can take in at a view. The spectators,
+looking from an elevated platform in the centre, see the painting all
+around them in every direction, and appearing the size of reality, but
+always stationary. The panoramas exhibited successively in London by
+Barker, Burford, Catherwood and others, are admirable and truthful views
+of the places they represent; and after viewing them a few minutes, you
+can scarcely believe that you are not actually there, and looking at
+real objects. A few of these triumphs of perspective and colouring, have
+been brought to America. It were much to be wished that an arrangement
+could be made for conveying every one of these fine panoramas
+successively across the Atlantic, and exhibiting them in all our
+principal cities. It would be a good speculation.
+
+It is difficult to imagine whence originated the mistake of calling a
+diorama a panorama, which it is _not_. A diorama is one of those
+numerous flat-surface paintings of which we have had so many, (and some
+few of them very good,) and which, moving on unseen rollers, glide or
+slide along, displaying every few minutes a new portion of the scenery.
+
+The error has grown so common that persons fall habitually into it,
+though knowing all the time that it _is_ an error. To correct it, let
+the exhibiters of dioramas cease to call them _panoramas_, and give them
+their proper name, both in their advertisements and in their verbal
+descriptions. Sebron's magnificent representation of the departure of
+the Israelites, that looked so amazingly real, was not a diorama, for it
+did not move, and not a panorama, for it was not circular. But it was a
+colossal picture, so excellent that at the first glance it seemed to be
+no picture at all, but the real scene, with the real people.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[15] In buying a _handsome_ parasol or umbrella, see that it has a
+folding-joint in the middle of the stick, and that this joint works
+easily, so that there may be no difficulty in packing it in a trunk or
+box. To prevent the silk being rubbed, tie up the parasol in a smooth
+linen case, previous to packing.
+
+[16] We were a few years since, told by one of our principal booksellers
+that a young lady came into his store when he chanced to be at the
+counter himself, and, showing him a small English prayer-book elegantly
+bound, and with fine engravings, she enquired if he had any exactly like
+that. On his replying in the negative, she desired that he would get
+precisely such a prayer-book _made for her_, in time for church on
+Sunday morning--(it was then Friday)--as she had set her mind on it. It
+must have just such pictures, and just such a beautiful gilt cover. He
+endeavoured in vain to convince her of the utter impossibility of
+performing this feat of having one single book printed, and bound, with
+plates engraved purposely for it, and all in the space of a day and a
+half. She seemed much displeased, and went away, in search, as she said,
+of a bookseller that was more obliging.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+OFFENCES.
+
+
+If the visits of an acquaintance become less frequent than formerly, the
+falling off is not always to be imputed to want of regard for you, or to
+having lost all pleasure in your society. The cause may be want of time,
+removal to a distance, precarious health, care of children, absence from
+town, family troubles, depressed fortunes, and various other
+circumstances. Also, with none of these causes, visiting may gradually
+and almost insensibly decline, and neither of the parties have the
+slightest dislike to each other. If no offence has been intended, none
+should be taken; and when you chance to meet, instead of consuming the
+time in complaints of estrangement, meet as if your intercourse had
+never been interrupted, and you will find it very easy to renew it; and
+perhaps on a better footing than before. The renewal should be marked by
+a prompt interchange of special invitations--followed by visits.
+
+Unless your rooms are spacious, you cannot have what is called a large
+general party. Some of your acquaintances must be omitted, and all that
+are left out, are generally offended. Therefore it is not well ever to
+have such parties, unless your accommodations are ample. _Squeezes_ are
+out of fashion in the best American society. We have heard of parties at
+great houses in London, where, after the rooms were crowded to
+suffocation, a large portion of the company had to pass the evening on
+the stairs; and where coaches, unable to draw up from the immense number
+of these vehicles that were in advance, had to remain all night at the
+foot of the line, with ladies sitting in them. When morning came, they
+had to turn back, and drive home, the carriages being all they saw of
+the party.
+
+It is better to give two or three moderate entertainments in the course
+of the season, than to crowd your rooms uncomfortably; and even then to
+risk giving offence to those who could not be added to the number.
+
+If such offence has been given, try to atone for it by inviting the
+offended to dine with you, or to pass an evening, and asking at the same
+time a few pleasant people whom you know she likes.
+
+You may have a very intimate and sincere friend who does not find it
+convenient to send for you every time she has company. If, in all things
+else, she treats you with uniform kindness, and gives reason to believe
+that she has a true affection for you, pass over these occasional
+omissions of invitation, and do not call her to account, or treat her
+coolly when you see her. True friendship ought not depend upon
+_parties_. It should be based on a better foundation.
+
+If no answer is returned to a note of invitation, be not hasty in
+supposing that the omission has sprung from rudeness or neglect. Trust
+that your friend is neither rude nor neglectful; and believe that the
+answer was duly sent, but that it miscarried from some accidental
+circumstance.
+
+A friend may inadvertently say something that you do not like to hear,
+or may make a remark that is not pleasant to you. Unless it is prefaced
+with a _previous_ apology; or unless she desires you "not to be offended
+at what she is going to say;" or unless she informs you that "she
+considers it her duty always to speak her mind,"--you have no right to
+suppose the offence premeditated, and therefore you should restrain your
+temper, and calmly endeavour to convince her that she is wrong; or else
+acknowledge that she is right. She ought then to apologize for what she
+said, and you should immediately change the subject, and never again
+refer to it. In this way quarrels may be prevented, and ill-feeling
+crushed in the bud. When what is called "a coolness" takes place between
+friends, the longer it goes on the more difficult it is to get over. But
+"better late than never." If, on consideration, you find that _you_ were
+in the wrong, let no false pride, no stubborn perverseness prevent you
+from making that acknowledgement. If your friend, on her part, first
+shows a desire for reconciliation, meet her half-way. A vindictive
+disposition is a bad one, and revenge is a most unchristian feeling.
+People of sense (unless the injury is very great, and of lasting
+consequences) are easy to appease, because they generally have good
+feelings, and know how to listen to reason. Dr. Watts most truly says--
+
+    "The wise will let their anger cool,
+      At least before 'tis night;
+    But in the bosom of a fool,
+      It burns till morning light."
+
+Should you chance to be thrown into the presence of persons who have
+proved themselves your enemies, and with whom you can have no
+intercourse, say nothing either _to_ them or _at_ them; and do not place
+yourself in their vicinity. To talk _at_ a person, is mean and vulgar.
+Those who do it are fully capable of writing anonymous and insulting
+letters; and they often do so. High-minded people will always be
+scrupulously careful in observing toward those with whom they are at
+variance, all the ceremonies usual in polite society--particularly the
+conventional civilities of the table.
+
+If you have, unfortunately, had a quarrel with a friend, talk of it to
+others as little as possible; lest in the heat of anger, you may give an
+exaggerated account, and represent your adversary in darker colours than
+she deserves. You may be very sure these misrepresentations will reach
+her ear, and be greatly magnified by every successive relater. In this
+way a trifle may be swelled into importance; a mole-hill may become a
+mountain; and a slight affront may embitter the feelings of future
+years. "Blessed are the peacemakers,"--and a mutual friend, if
+well-disposed toward both opponents, generally has it in her power to
+effect a reconciliation, by repeating, kindly, any favourable remark
+she may chance to have heard one of the offended parties make on the
+other. In truth, we wish it were the universal custom for all people to
+tell other people whatever good they may hear of them--instead of the
+wicked and hateful practice of telling only the bad. Make it a rule to
+repeat to your friends all the pleasant remarks that (as far as you
+know) are made on them, and you will increase their happiness, and your
+own popularity. We do not mean that you should flatter them, by reciting
+compliments that are not true; but truth is not flattery, and there is
+no reason why agreeable truths should not always be told. There would
+then be far more kind feeling in the world. Few persons are so bad as
+not to have some good in them. Let them hear of the good. Few are so
+ugly as not to have about them something commendable even externally, if
+it is only a becoming dress. Let them hear of that dress. Flattery is
+praise without foundation. To tell a person with heavy, dull gray eyes,
+that her eyes are of a bright and beautiful blue; to talk of her golden
+locks to a woman with positive red hair of the tint called carroty; to
+tell a long, thin, stoop-shouldered girl, that she possesses the light
+and airy form of a sylph; or a short-necked, fat one that her figure has
+the dignity of an empress; to assure a faded matron that she looks like
+a young girl; to fall into raptures on listening to bad music, or when
+viewing a drawing that depicts nothing intelligible; or praising album
+poetry that has neither "rhyme nor reason,"--all this is gross
+flattery, which the object (if she has any sense) will easily detect,
+and suspect that you are trying experiments on her vanity and credulity.
+
+Still where agreeable qualities _really_ exist, it is not amiss to
+allude to them delicately. It will give pleasure without compromising
+veracity.
+
+When any thing complimentary is said to you, acknowledge it by a bow and
+smile, but do not attempt an answer unless you can say something in
+return that will be equally sincere and pleasant. Most probably you
+cannot; therefore look gratified, and bow your thanks, but remain
+silent. Few ladies are distinguished, like the Harriet Byron of
+Grandison, "for a very pretty manner of returning a compliment." Do not
+reject the compliment by pretending to prove that you do not deserve it.
+But if it is a piece of bare-faced flattery, the best answer is to look
+gravely, and say or do nothing.
+
+Should you chance accidentally to overhear a remark to your
+disadvantage, consider first if there may not be some truth in it. If
+you feel that there is, turn it to profitable account, and try to
+improve, or to get rid of the fault, whatever it may be. But never show
+resentment at any thing not intended for your ear, unless it is
+something of such vital importance as to render it necessary that you
+should come forward in self-defence. These instances, however, are of
+rare occurrence.
+
+If you are so placed that you can hear the conversation of persons who
+are talking about you, it is very mean to sit there and listen.
+Immediately remove to a distance far enough to be out of hearing.
+
+It is a proverb that listeners seldom hear any good of themselves. It
+were a pity if they should. Eavesdropping or listening beneath an open
+window, the crack of a door, or through a key-hole, are as dishonourable
+as to pick pockets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN.
+
+
+In her intercourse with gentlemen, a lady should take care to avoid all
+pecuniary obligations. The civility that a gentleman conventionally owes
+to a lady is a sufficient tax--more she has no right to expect, or to
+accept. A man of good sense, and of true politeness, will not be
+offended at her unwillingness to become his debtor. On the contrary, he
+will respect her delicacy, and approve her dignity; and consent at once
+to her becoming her own banker on all occasions where expense is to be
+incurred. This is the custom in Europe; and is, in most cases, a very
+good one.
+
+When invited to join a party to a place of amusement, let her consent,
+if she wishes; but let her state expressly that it is only on condition
+of being permitted to pay for her own ticket. If she steadily adheres to
+this custom, it will soon be understood that such is always her
+commendable practice; and she can then, with perfect propriety, at any
+time, ask for a seat among friends who intend going. To this
+accommodation she could not invite herself, if in the continual habit of
+visiting public places at the expense of others. The best time for a
+lady to pay for herself is to put her money into the hand of the
+gentleman _previous_ to their departure for the place of performance.
+He will not be so rude as to refuse to take it. If he does refuse, she
+should evince her resentment by going with him no more.
+
+Young men of limited means are frequently drawn into expenses they can
+ill afford, by being acquainted with young ladies who profess a passion
+for equestrian exercises--a most inconvenient passion for one who has
+not a horse of her own, or who lives in a family where no horses are
+kept. If her gentleman is obliged to hire, not only a horse for himself,
+but also one for the lady, let her have sufficient consideration _not_
+to propose to him that they should take rides together--and let her not
+draw him into an invitation, by her dwelling excessively on the delight
+of horseback excursions. In cities, these rides are expensive luxuries
+to those who keep no horses. Few city ladies ride well, (even if they
+have been at riding-school,) for want of daily practice out of doors.
+They are not exactly at ease on the horse, and always seem somewhat
+afraid of him; at least till they are "off the stones," and out in the
+open country. While in the streets, the rare sight of a lady on
+horseback attracts much attention, and a crowd of boys gathers round to
+see her mount her steed, or alight from it. This to a young lady of
+delicacy is very embarrassing, or ought to be.
+
+In the country, the case is totally different. There, "practice makes
+perfect." The ladies, being accustomed to riding their own horses from
+childhood, acquire the art without any trouble, have no fear, feel
+perfectly at home in the saddle, and therefore sit gracefully, and
+manage their steeds easily. And as every country gentleman has a
+riding-horse of his own, he can accompany a lady without the expense of
+hiring.
+
+Lay no wagers with gentlemen, and have no philopenas with them. In
+betting with a lady, it is customary for the gentleman to pay whether he
+wins or loses. What then does the wager imply, but a rapacious and mean
+desire on the part of the lady to "get a present out of him"--as such
+ladies would express it. No delicate and refined female ever bets at
+all. It is a very coarse and masculine way of asserting an opinion or a
+belief; and always reminds gentlemen of the race-course, or the
+gaming-table.
+
+We disapprove of ladies going to charity-fairs in the evening, when they
+require a male escort--and when that escort is likely to be drawn into
+paying exorbitant prices for gifts to his fair companion--particularly,
+if induced to do so from the fear of appearing mean, or of being thought
+wanting in benevolence. In the evening, the young ladies who "have
+tables," are apt to become especially importunate in urging the sale of
+their goods--and appear to great disadvantage as imitation-shop-keepers,
+exhibiting a boldness in teazing that no real saleswoman would presume
+to display. Then the crowd is generally great; the squeezing and pushing
+very uncomfortable; and most of the company far from genteel. Ladies who
+_are_ ladies, should only visit fancy-fairs in the day-time, when they
+can go without gentlemen; none of whom take much pleasure in this mode
+of raising money; or rather of levying contributions for special
+purposes. There are other ways that are more lady-like, more effective,
+less fatiguing, and more satisfactory to all concerned--and far less
+detrimental to the interests of the numerous poor women who get their
+living by their needles, or by their ingenuity in making ornamental
+nick-nacks for sale, and who ask but a fair price for them. Dress-makers
+are frequently induced to keep back portions of silk, the rightful
+property of their customers, who may afterwards be put to great
+inconvenience for want of them, when the dress is to be altered or
+repaired. And these pieces are given to the ladies who go about begging
+for materials to make pincushions, &c. for fancy-fairs. This is
+dishonest. Let them go to a store and buy small pieces of silk, velvet,
+ribbon, and whatever they want for these purposes.
+
+If you have occasion to send by a gentleman a package to a
+transportation-office, give him along with it the money to pay for its
+carriage. If you borrow change, (even one cent,) return it to him
+punctually. He ought to take it as a thing of course, without any
+comment. When you commission him to buy any thing for you, if you know
+the price, give the money beforehand; otherwise, pay it as soon as he
+brings the article. Do all such things promptly, lest they should escape
+your memory if delayed.
+
+When visiting a fancy-store with a gentleman, refrain from excessively
+admiring any handsome or expensive article you may chance to see there.
+Above all, express no wish that you were able to buy it, and no regret
+that you cannot, lest he should construe these extreme tokens of
+admiration into hints that you wish him to buy it for you. To allow him
+to do so, would on your part be very mean and indelicate, and on his
+very foolish.
+
+It ought to be a very painful office (and is a very improper one) for
+young ladies to go round soliciting from gentlemen subscriptions for
+charitable purposes. Still it is done. Subscription-papers should only
+be offered by persons somewhat advanced in life, and of undoubted
+respectability--and then the application should be made, exclusively, to
+those whose circumstances are known to be affluent. People who have not
+much to give, generally prefer giving that little to objects of charity
+within their own knowledge. Who is there that does not know a poor
+family? And without actually giving money, (which in too many instances,
+is immediately appropriated by a drunken husband to supply himself with
+more drink,) much may be done to procure a few comforts for a miserable
+wife and children.
+
+When you ask money for a charitable purpose, do so only when quite alone
+with the person to whom you apply. It is taking an undue advantage to
+make the request in presence of others--particularly if, as before
+observed, there is not wealth as well as benevolence. There is a time
+for all things--and young ladies are deservedly unpopular when, even in
+the cause of charity, they seize every opportunity to levy contributions
+on the purses of gentlemen.
+
+It is wrong to trouble gentlemen with commissions that may cause them
+inconvenience or expense. In the awful days of bandboxes, unfortunate
+young men riding in stages were sometimes required to convey one of
+these cumbrous receptacles of bonnets and caps a day's journey upon
+their knees, to save it from rain outside. Sometimes an immense package
+containing an immense shawl. We knew an officer who, by particular
+desire, actually carried _three_ great shawls several hundred miles;
+each bundle to be delivered at a different house in "the City of
+Magnificent Distances." But as to officers, "sufferance is the badge of
+all their tribe." Now these shawls should all have been sent by the
+public line, even if the transportation _did_ cost something.
+
+We repeat, that a lady cannot be too particular in placing herself under
+obligations to a gentleman. She should scrupulously avoid it in every
+little thing that may involve him in expense on her account. And he will
+respect her the more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+CONDUCT TO LITERARY WOMEN.
+
+
+On being introduced to a female writer, it is rude to say that "you have
+long had a great _curiosity_ to see her." Curiosity is not the right
+word. It is polite to imply that, "knowing her well by reputation, you
+are glad to have an opportunity of making her personal acquaintance."
+Say nothing concerning her writings, unless you chance to be alone with
+her. Take care not to speak of her first work as being her best; for if
+it is really so, she must have been retrograding from that time; a
+falling off that she will not like to hear of. Perhaps the truth may be,
+that you yourself have read only her _first_ work; and if you tell her
+this, she will not be much flattered in supposing that you, in reality,
+cared so little for her first book, as to feel no desire to try a
+second. But she will be really gratified to learn that you are
+acquainted with most of her writings; and, in the course of
+conversation, it will be very pleasant for her to hear you quote
+something from them.
+
+If she is a writer of fiction, and you presume to take the liberty of
+criticising her works, (as you may at her own request, or if you are
+her intimate friend,) refrain from urging that certain incidents are
+_improbable_, and certain characters _unnatural_. Of this it is
+impossible for you to judge, unless you could have lived the very same
+life that she has; known exactly the same people; and inhabited with
+her the same places. Remember always that "Truth is stranger than
+fiction." The French say--"Le vrai n'est pas toujours le plus
+vraisemblable,"--which, literally translated, means that "Truth is not
+always the most truth-like." Also, be it understood that a woman of
+quick perception and good memory can see and recollect a thousand
+things which would never be noticed or remembered by an obtuse or
+shallow, common-place capacity. And the intellect of a good writer of
+fiction is always brightened by the practice of taking in and laying
+up ideas with a view toward turning them to professional use. Trust in
+her, and believe that she _has_ painted from life. A sensible
+fictionist always does. At the same time, be not too curious in
+questioning her as to the identity of her personages and the reality
+of her incidents. You have no right to expect that she will expose to
+you, or to any one else, her process of arranging the story, bringing
+out the characters, or concocting the dialogue. The machinery of her
+work, and the hidden springs which set it in motion, she naturally
+wishes to keep to herself; and she cannot be expected to lay them bare
+for the gratification of impertinent curiosity, letting them become
+subjects of idle gossip. Be satisfied to take her works as you find
+them. If you like them, read and commend them; but do not ask her to
+conduct you behind the scenes, and show you the mysteries of her
+art--for writing is really an art, and one that cannot be acquired, to
+any advantage, without a certain amount of talent, taste, and
+cultivation, to say nothing of genius. What right have you to expect
+that your literary friend will trust you with "the secrets of her
+prison-house," and put it into your power to betray her confidence by
+acquainting the world that a certain popular novelist has informed you
+with her own lips ("but it must on no account be mentioned, as the
+disclosure would give mortal offence, and create for her hosts of
+enemies,") that by her character of Fanny Gadfly she really means Lucy
+Giddings; that Mr. Hardcastle signifies Mr. Stone; that Old Wigmore
+was modelled on no less a person than Isaac Baldwin; that Mrs.
+Bastings was taken from Mrs. Sunning; and Mrs. Babes from Mrs.
+Childers--&c. &c. Also, do not expect her to tell you on what facts
+her incidents were founded, and whether there was any truth in them,
+or if they were mere invention.
+
+Be not inquisitive as to the length of time consumed in writing this
+book or that--or how soon the work now on hand will be finished. It can
+scarcely be any concern of yours, and the writer may have reasons for
+keeping back the information. Rest assured that whenever a public
+announcement of a new book is expedient, it will certainly be made in
+print.
+
+There are persons so rude as to question a literary woman (even on a
+slight acquaintance) as to the remuneration she receives for her
+writings--in plain terms, "How much did you get for that? and how much
+are you to have for this? And how much do you make in the course of a
+year? And how much a page do you get? And how many pages can you write
+in a day?"
+
+To any impertinent questions from a stranger-lady concerning the profits
+of your pen, reply concisely, that these things are secrets between
+yourself and your publishers. If you kindly condescend to answer without
+evasion, these polite enquiries, you will probably hear such
+exclamations as, "Why, really--you must be coining money. I think I'll
+write books myself! There can't be a better trade," &c.
+
+Ignorant people always suppose that popular writers are wonderfully
+well-paid--and must be making rapid fortunes--because they neither
+starve in garrets, nor wear rags--at least in America.
+
+Never ask one writer what is her _real_ opinion of a cotemporary author.
+She may be unwilling to entrust it to you, as she can have no guarantee
+that you will not whisper it round till it gets into print. If she
+voluntarily expresses her own opinion of another writer, and it _is_
+unfavourable, be honourable enough not to repeat it; but guard it
+sedulously from betrayal, and avoid mentioning it to any one.
+
+When in company with literary women, make no allusions to "learned
+ladies," or "blue stockings," or express surprise that they should have
+any knowledge of housewifery, or needle-work, or dress; or that they are
+able to talk on "common things." It is rude and foolish, and shows that
+you really know nothing about them, either as a class or as
+individuals.
+
+Never tell an authoress that "you are afraid of her"--or entreat her
+"not to put you into a book." Be assured there is no danger.
+
+An authoress has seldom leisure to entertain morning visiters; so much
+of her time being professionally occupied either in writing, or in
+reading what will prepare her for writing. She should apprize all her
+friends of the hours in which she is usually engaged; and then none who
+are really her friends and well-wishers, will encroach upon her
+convenience for any purpose of their own; unless under extraordinary
+circumstances. To tell her that you were "just passing by," or "just in
+the neighbourhood," and "just thought you would stop in," is a very
+selfish, or at least a very inconsiderate excuse. Is she to suppose that
+you do not consider her conversation worthy of a visit made on purpose?
+
+Recollect that to a woman who gets her living by her pen, "time is
+money," as it is to an artist. Therefore, encroaching on her time is
+lessening her income. And yet how often is this done (either heedlessly
+or selfishly) by persons professing to be her friends, and who are
+habitually in the practice of interrupting her in her writing hours,
+which should always be in the morning, if possible. They think it
+sufficient to say, like Paul Pry, "I hope I don't intrude"--knowing all
+the time that they _do_, and pretending to believe her when civility
+obliges her to tell them they do _not_. Even if the visit is not a long
+one, it is still an interruption. In one minute it may break a chain of
+ideas which cannot be reunited, dispel thoughts that can never be
+recalled, disturb the construction of a sentence, and obliterate a
+recollection that will not return. And to all this the literary lady
+must submit, because her so-called friend "chanced to be out that
+morning shopping"--or "happened to be visiting in that part of the
+town"--and therefore has called on _her_ by way of "killing two birds
+with one stone." Very likely, the visiter will say to the unfortunate
+visited, "I know it is inconvenient to you to see your friends in the
+morning, but I never feel like going out in the afternoon. As soon as
+dinner is over I must have my nap; and by the time that is finished, it
+is too late for any thing else."
+
+In consequence of these ill-timed visits, the printer may have to send
+in vain for "copy" that is not yet ready; and an article written
+expressly for a magazine may arrive too late for the next month, and be
+therefore deferred a month later, which may subject her not only to
+inconvenience, but to actual pecuniary loss--loss of money. Or, at
+least, the interruption may compel her to the painful effort of trying
+to finish it even by sitting up late at night, and straining her weary
+eyes by lamp-light. Yet this she must endure because it suits an idle
+and thoughtless _friend_ to make her a long and inopportune visit. The
+children of the pen and the pencil might say to these intruders, like
+the frogs in the pond when the boys were pelting them with stones--"This
+may be sport to you, but it is death to us."
+
+If, when admitted into her study, you should find her writing-table in
+what appears to you like great confusion, recollect that there is
+really no wit in a remark too common on such occasions,--"Why, you look
+quite _littery_,"--a poor play on the words _literary_ and _litter_. In
+all probability, she knows precisely where to lay her hand upon every
+paper on the table: having in reality placed them exactly to suit her
+convenience. Though their arrangement may be quite unintelligible to the
+uninitiated, there is no doubt method (her own method, at least) in
+their apparent disorder. It is not likely she may have time to put her
+writing table in nice-looking order every day. To have it done by
+servants is out of the question, as _they_ would make "confusion worse
+confounded;" being of course unable to comprehend how _such a table_
+should be arranged.
+
+If you chance to find an authoress occupied with her needle, express no
+astonishment, and refrain from exclaiming, "What! can _you_ sew?" or, "I
+never supposed a literary lady could even hem a handkerchief!"
+
+This is a false, and if expressed in words, an insulting idea. A large
+number of literary females are excellent needle-women, and good
+housewives; and there is no reason why they should not be. The same
+vigour of character and activity of intellect which renders a woman a
+_good_ writer, will also enable her to acquire with a quickness, almost
+intuitive, a competent knowledge of household affairs, and of the art of
+needle-work. And she will find, upon making the attempt, that, with a
+little time and a little perseverance, she may become as notable a
+personage (both in theory and practice) as if she had never read a
+book, or written a page.
+
+The Dora of David Copperfield is an admirable illustration of the fact
+that a silly, illiterate woman may be the worst of housewives. Dickens
+has unquestionably painted this character exactly from life. But that he
+always does. He must have known a Dora. And who has not?
+
+If you find your literary friend in dèshabille, and she apologizes for
+it--(she had best _not_ apologize)--tell her not that "authoresses are
+privileged persons, and are never expected to pay any attention to
+dress." Now, literary slatterns are not more frequent than slatterns who
+are not literary. It is true that women of enlarged minds, and really
+good taste, do not think it necessary to follow closely all the changes
+and follies of fashion, and to wear things that are inconvenient,
+uncomfortable, and unbecoming, merely because milliners, dress-makers,
+&c. have pronounced them "the last new style."
+
+It is ill-manners to refer in any way to the profession of the person to
+whom you are talking, unless that person is an intimate friend, and you
+are alone with her; and unless she herself begins the subject. Still
+worse, to allude to their profession as if you supposed it rendered them
+different from the rest of the world, and marked them with peculiarities
+from which other people are exempt.
+
+It is true that authorlings and poetizers are apt to affect
+eccentricity. Real authors, and even real poets, (by real we mean good
+ones,) have generally a large portion of common sense to balance their
+genius, and are therefore seldom guilty of the queernesses unjustly
+imputed to the whole fraternity.
+
+When in company with a literary lady with whom you are not on very
+confidential terms, it is bad taste to talk to her exclusively of books,
+and to endeavour to draw out her opinion of authors with whom she is
+personally acquainted--and whom she will, of course, be unwilling to
+criticise, (at least in miscellaneous society,) lest her remarks should
+be invidiously or imprudently repeated, and even get into print. "Any
+thing new in the literary world?" is a question by which some people
+always commence conversation with an author. Why should it be supposed
+that they always "carry the shop along with them," or that they take no
+interest or pleasure in things not connected with books. On the
+contrary, they are glad to be allowed the privilege of unbending like
+other people. And a good writer is almost always a good talker, and
+fully capable of conversing well on various subjects. Try her.
+
+It was beautifully said of Jane Taylor, the charming author of a popular
+and never-tiring little book of "Original Poems for Children," that "you
+only knew that the stream of literature had passed over her mind by the
+fertility it left behind it."
+
+We have witnessed, when two distinguished lady-writers chanced to be at
+the same party, an unmannerly disposition to "pit them against each
+other"--placing them side by side, or _vis-à-vis_, and saying something
+about, "When Greek meets Greek," &c., and absolutely collecting a
+circle round them, to be amused or edified by the expected dialogue.
+This is rude and foolish.
+
+It is not treating a talented woman with due consideration, to be active
+in introducing to her the silliest and flattest people in the room,
+because the said flats have been worked up into a desire of seeing, face
+to face, "a live authoress"--though in all probability they have not
+read one of her works.
+
+That notorious lion-hunter, the Countess of Cork, was so candid as to
+say to certain celebrated writers, "I'll sit by _you_ because you are
+famous." To a very charming American lady whom she was persuading to
+come to her party, she frankly added, "My dear, you really must not
+refuse me. Don't you know you are my decoy-duck."
+
+There are mothers (called pattern-mothers) who uphold the theory that
+every thing in the world must bend to the advantage (real or supposed)
+of children, that is, of their own children--and who have continually on
+their lips the saying, "a mother's first duty is to her children." So it
+is, and it is her duty not to render them vain, impertinent, conceited,
+and obtrusive, by allowing them to suppose that they must on all
+occasions be brought forward; and that their mother's visiters have
+nothing to do but to improve and amuse _them_. Therefore a literary lady
+often receives a more than hint from such a mother to talk only on
+edifying subjects when the dear little creatures are present; and then
+the conversation is required to take a Penny-Magazine tone,
+exclusively--the darlings being, most probably, restless and impatient
+all the time, the girls sitting uneasily on their chairs and looking
+tired, and the boys suddenly bolting out of the room to get back to
+their sports. It is true the children will be less impatient if the
+visiter will trouble herself to "tell them stories" all the time; but it
+is rude to ask her to do so.
+
+When directing a letter to "a woman of letters," it is not considered
+polite to insert the word "Authoress" after her name. And yet we have
+seen this done by persons who ought to know better. If you are
+unacquainted with the number and street of her residence, direct to the
+care of her publisher; whose place you may always find, by referring to
+the title-page of one of her last works, and by seeing his
+advertisements in the newspapers. The booksellers always know where
+their authors are to be found. So do the printers--for their boys convey
+the proof-sheets.
+
+Observe that the term "learned lady" is not correctly applied to a
+female, unless she has successfully cultivated what is understood to be
+the learning of colleges--for instance, the dead languages, &c.
+Unfortunately, the term is now seldom used but in derision, and to
+denote a woman whose studies have been entirely of the masculine order.
+You may speak of a well-informed, well-read, talented, intellectual,
+accomplished lady; but call her not _learned_, unless she is well-versed
+in the Greek and Latin classics, and able to discuss them from their
+original language. Even then, spare her the appellation of _learned_, if
+gentlemen are present. In the dark ages, when not every lady could read
+and write, the few that _were_ entitled to the "benefit of clergy,"
+frequently "drank deep in tasting the Pierian spring," and proceeded to
+study the learned languages with great success; for instance, Lady Jane
+Grey and Queen Elizabeth.
+
+In desiring the autograph of a literary lady, do not expect her to write
+in your album "a piece of poetry." Be satisfied with her signature only.
+There is a spice of meanness in requesting from her, as a gift, any
+portion of her stock in trade. As well might you ask Mr. Stewart, or Mr.
+Levy, to present you with an embroidered collar, or a pair of gloves.
+For the same reason, never request an artist to "draw something" in your
+album. It is only amateur poets, and amateur artists, that can afford to
+write and draw in albums. Those who make a living by their profession,
+have no time to spare for gratuitous performances; and it is as wrong to
+ask them, as it is to invite public singers to "favour the company with
+a song" at private parties, where they are invited as guests. It is,
+however, not unusual for professional musicians to kindly and politely
+gratify the company by inviting themselves to sing; saying, "Perhaps you
+would like to hear my last song." And sometimes, if quite "in the vein,"
+a real poet, when modestly asked for merely his signature, will
+voluntarily add a few lines of verse. But do not expect it.
+
+There are pretty little books of fine paper, handsomely bound, that are
+used for the purpose of containing signature autographs; one on each
+page. A lady owning such a book, can send it to any distinguished
+person of whose hand-writing she wishes to possess a specimen.
+
+When the name at the bottom of a letter is shown to you as an autograph,
+it is rude to take the letter into your own hand, and read the whole, or
+even to glance your eye over it. It is not intended that you shall see
+any thing but the signature.
+
+We will now address a few words to beginners in the art of writing, with
+reference to their intercourse with women of well-established literary
+reputation. If these ladies of decided standing in the republic of
+letters have sufficient leisure, they will generally be very kind in
+assisting with their counsel a young aspirant, who shows any evidence of
+talent for the profession. Unluckily, too many novices in the art,
+mistake a mere desire to get into print, for that rarest of
+gifts--genius. And without genius, there is no possibility of gaining by
+the pen, either fame, or fortune.
+
+Long manuscripts are frequently sent for the revisal "at leisure" of a
+person who has little or no leisure. Yet in the intervals of toiling for
+herself, she is expected to toil for some one else; probably for a
+stranger whom she does not know, in whom she can take no interest, and
+who has evidently "no writing in her soul." If, however, the modest
+request is kindly complied with, in all probability the corrections will
+only give offence, and may perhaps be crossed out before the manuscript
+is offered to the publisher, who very likely may reject it for want of
+these very corrections. We have known such incidents.
+
+The least talented of the numerous females pretending to authorship, are
+generally the most conceited and the most obtrusive. They are frequently
+very great annoyances to women "well-up the ladder," who are expected,
+in many instances, not only to revise the manuscript, but immediately to
+find a purchaser for it--a purchaser of high rank among publishers--one
+who will bring it out handsomely, ensure it an immense circulation, pay
+promptly, and pay as much as is given to the standard authors. And
+besides being desired to "get it published," the reviser of the
+manuscript will, perhaps, be requested to correct the proofs; that is,
+if the literary novice should chance to know what proof-sheets are.
+
+The work thus arrogantly thrust upon the time and attention of a
+deservedly-popular writer may be a book of "sweet poetry," on weak,
+worn-out, common-place subjects, done into feeble, halting, ill-rhyming
+verses, such as few read, and none remember. Or the aspirant after fame,
+may have chosen the easier path of prose, and produced a fiction without
+fancy, a novel without novelty, "a thrilling tale" that thrills nobody,
+a picture of fashionable life after no fashion that ever existed, or "a
+pathetic story of domestic life," neither pathetic nor domestic.
+
+Yet if a practised and successful author ventures to pronounce an
+_unfavourable_ verdict on such productions, because the writer desired
+her _candid_ opinion, she will probably light up a flame of resentment,
+that may never be extinguished, and make an enemy for life; the
+objections being imputed to "sheer envy," and to a malignant design of
+"extinguishing a rising star."
+
+A sufficient introduction to a publisher is to send him the manuscript,
+accompanied by a note requesting his opinion as soon as convenient. If
+he approves it, and believes it will be profitable, there is no doubt of
+his being willing to print the work. And if he thinks he shall make
+nothing by it, it is equally certain that he will decline the offer. It
+is too much to expect that he will be so regardless of his own interest
+as to publish a book, the sale of which will not remunerate him for the
+cost of paper and printing.
+
+Ladies who live in the same house with an authoress, have opportunities
+enough of seeing her in the parlour, and at table; therefore they may
+dispense with visiting her in her own room. Spare her all interruptions
+of applying for the loan of books, paper, pens, ink, &c. Do not expect
+that, because she writes, she must necessarily keep a free circulating
+library, or a gratuitous stationer's shop. Supply yourself with all such
+conveniences from the regular sources. Buy them, and pay for them,
+instead of troubling one who has not time to be troubled. Above all,
+refrain from the meanness of asking her to lend you any book written by
+herself. If she volunteers the loan, then receive it thankfully; and
+take care to return it speedily, and in good condition. It is _her_
+interest, and the interest of her publishers, that a large number of
+copies shall be _sold_; not lent, or given away. Many persons
+erroneously suppose that an author has always on hand an unlimited
+number of her own books; or that the publisher will kindly give her as
+many as she can want for herself and friends. This is by no means the
+case. It is usual, when the first edition comes out, for the publisher
+to send the author half a dozen copies of the book, or a dozen, if it is
+a small one. After that, if she wants any more, she is expected to buy
+them of the bookseller. Therefore, she has none to _give away_, except
+to members of her own family, or to friends whose circumstances will not
+permit them to expend money in books, and who have an ardent love for
+reading without the means of gratifying it. We have known ladies,
+possessing diamonds and India shawls, and living in splendid houses, ask
+the author for the loan of a cookery-book, with the avowed purpose of
+"copying out the best receipts."
+
+Apropos to cookery-books:--If you have faithfully followed a receipt,
+and the result is not quite satisfactory, there is nothing amiss in your
+acquainting the writer with that fact, provided it _is_ a fact. On the
+contrary, you may do her a kindness, by enabling her to detect an error
+in the directions, and to rectify that error in a future edition.
+
+Women often assert that the receipt was not a good one, and that upon
+trial it proved a failure, when, on investigation, you will find that,
+from false economy, some of the ingredients were left out; or the
+relative proportions diminished in quantity--too much of the cheapest
+articles being put in, and not enough of the more costly. Or else, that
+sufficient time and pains were not bestowed on the mixing and preparing;
+or that the thing was not sufficiently cooked.
+
+By-the-bye, remember that a receipt for cookery, is not to be called a
+_recipe_. The word _recipe_ belongs to pharmacy, and is only used with
+reference to medical prescriptions. The cook uses _receipts_, the
+apothecary _recipes_.
+
+Whatever article you may wish to borrow from an inmate of the same
+house, apply first to persons whose time is of comparatively small
+importance to them, before you disturb and interrupt a literary lady. Do
+not trouble her for the loan of umbrellas, over-shoes, hoods, calashes,
+&c., or send to her for small change.
+
+We once lived in a house where coal-fires were scarce, and wood-fires
+plenty. Our own fire-arrangement was wood in a Franklin stove, and no
+other person in the house was the fortunate owner of a pair of bellows.
+Liking always to be comfortable, we had bought a pair for ourselves.
+
+Ten times a day we were disturbed by a knock at the door, from a
+coloured girl who came "a-borrowing" this implement to revive the fire
+of some other room. She called it by a pleasing variety of
+names--running through all the vowels. Sometimes she wanted the
+bellow_sas_; sometimes the bellow_ses_; or the bellow_sis_, the
+bellow_sos_, or the bellow_sus_. These frequent interruptions, with
+others that were similar, became a real grievance. We thought it would
+cost us less to present the bellows to the house, and buy another pair
+for ourselves. We did so--but very soon the first pair was somehow
+missing, and our own was again in requisition.
+
+Since that winter we have burnt anthracite, and therefore have no
+bellow_sas_ to lend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+SUGGESTIONS TO INEXPERIENCED AUTHORS.
+
+
+There is some economy and much convenience in buying your paper by the
+ream, (twenty quires,) having first tried a sample. The surface of the
+paper should be smooth, and somewhat glossy; particularly if you write
+with metallic pens. That which is soft and spongy, though a little lower
+in price, wears out the pen so fast that what is saved in paper is lost
+in pens; also, there is no possibility of writing on it with ease and
+expedition. You will find it best to use paper ruled in lines. If you
+write a large hand, take foolscap; if a small hand, use letter-paper
+size. But note-paper is too small, when you are writing for the press.
+
+Before you commence your manuscript, take a quire, and prepare each
+sheet by splitting it all down the folded side, with a sharp
+paper-cutter, thus dividing it into half-sheets. You can do this better
+on a flat table than on the slope of a desk. Keep your left hand
+pressing down hard on the quire, while you are cutting it with your
+right.
+
+The best paper-cutters are those of real ivory. A handle is of no
+advantage to them, but rather the contrary. They should be thin, plain,
+and perfectly straight, except being rounded off at the two ends. Ivory
+paper-knives of this form are generally used by the book-binders, an
+evidence that they are convenient and expeditious. Those of bone or horn
+are scarcely worth buying, though but half the price; the edges soon
+becoming blunt, and therefore useless. Wooden paper-knives are good for
+nothing. Paper-knives of mother of pearl, and other ornamental
+substances, are of little utility, being rarely sharp enough, (even when
+new,) and in a short time becoming quite dull. Also, they break very
+easily. Avoid cutting a sheet of paper, or the leaves of a book, with
+scissors; it is comparatively a slow and awkward process; and cannot,
+even with great care, be effected as smoothly and evenly as with a
+cutter of ivory.
+
+Before you split or divide the sheet, press the paper-knife all along
+the fold, so as to flatten the crease, and make it cut evenly and
+easily. Having split your whole sheets into leaves or half-sheets, take
+each half-sheet separately, and fold over an inch or more all along the
+left-hand edge; so as to leave a margin or space for sewing the
+manuscript when finished. Do this with the paper-knife. Lay a pile of
+these half-sheets beside you when you sit down to write, and take them
+as you want them.
+
+Write only on one side of the paper. If written on both sides, it will
+cause trouble and inconvenience to the printers, by obliging them to
+turn over at the end of every page. This rule, however, may be dispensed
+with, when a manuscript is so short that it may be comprised in one
+sheet, and is to be transmitted by mail. This may be the more easily
+managed, by drawing with a pencil or pen a straight perpendicular line
+down the middle of each page, so as to divide it into columns. When it
+is finished, enclose it in an envelope, direct, and seal it, and put on
+a post-office stamp. If the manuscript occupies two or three sheets, put
+two or three stamps side by side. There are large envelopes that will
+hold foolscap paper, properly folded.
+
+Do not use _blue_ ink; for if any part of your manuscript should chance
+to get wet, there is a risk of the blue ink being effaced or obliterated
+by the damp, so as to render the writing illegible; and this has
+frequently happened.
+
+Let your writing be large enough, and plain enough to be read with ease,
+and the compositor will be less likely to make mistakes. Printers,
+though accustomed to read all sorts of writing, are sometimes completely
+at a loss in deciphering a very bad hand. There is no excuse for a
+person in respectable life persisting in writing illegibly, as it is
+never too late to improve. You have only to take lessons of a good
+instructor, and apply yourself sedulously to acquiring a new hand, and
+you will succeed in doing so.
+
+Do not, in writing for the press, affect the crow-quill calligraphy that
+is fashionable for album verses and complimentary billets. When your
+manuscript is finished, sew the leaves _evenly_ together, with nothing
+more than a strong thread; or, if it is very thick, it may be sewed with
+a fine twine put into a large needle. A handsome cover, daintily
+fastened with a pretty ribbon, is of no account in a printing-office,
+where the first thing that is done with a manuscript is to remove the
+cover, and cut the leaves loose from the fastening. The printers will
+gladly dispense with covers, ribbons, and fairy-like penmanship, in
+favour of a plain legible hand, pages regularly numbered, and leaves
+written on one side only.
+
+In commencing a manuscript, write the title or caption in large letters,
+at some distance from the top of the first page; and if you are not
+anonymous, put your name a little below the title. Then begin the
+_first_ line of the first paragraph, several inches distant from the
+left-hand side, or margin. In this manner commence every paragraph. The
+length of the paragraphs may be regulated by the time when you think a
+pause longer than that of a period or full stop may be effective; or to
+give the reader an opportunity of resting for a minute; or to denote the
+commencement of another subject.
+
+In writing a dialogue, begin every separate speech with a capital, and
+commence each speech on a new line, and at some distance from the
+left-hand margin. Also mark the beginning and end of every speech with
+double commas. If the names of the speakers are given at the
+_commencement_ of every speech, write those names in _large_ letters,
+putting a dot and a dash after them. All these arrangements are the same
+in writing as in printing.
+
+If you are, unfortunately, not familiar with the rules of punctuation,
+refresh your memory by referring to them in a grammar-book. They must
+be strictly observed; otherwise your meaning will be unintelligible.
+Always remember that every period or full stop, and every note of
+interrogation, or of admiration, must be followed by a capital letter,
+beginning the next word. Dashes, particularly in a dialogue, add much to
+the effect, if not used too lavishly.
+
+Errors of orthography are rarely committed by any one who presumes to
+write for the press. It is scarcely possible for a person who reads much
+to spell incorrectly, as the appearance of the printed words becomes
+insensibly and indelibly fixed in the mind. Still it may be well to
+write with a dictionary on your table, in case you should have any doubt
+as to the proper spelling and meaning of a word with which you may not
+be very familiar.
+
+Keep also a grammar on your table. Grammatical errors are annoying to
+the reader, and disgraceful to the writer, unless it is well known that
+she has not had the advantage of an education, even at a common school.
+Then she is to be pitied. But it is never too late to study grammar, and
+she had best do so before she ventures to write for the public. If she
+writes ungrammatically, how must she talk! In a work of fiction it is
+shocking to have lords and ladies, or the noble and dignified hero, and
+the elegant and refined heroine, conversing in "bad grammar," because
+the author knew no better. Yet such books we have seen. There are,
+luckily, not many of them. But there should be none.
+
+Every morning, previous to commencing your task, revise carefully all
+that you have written on the preceeding day, and correct and alter
+whatever you may deem susceptible of improvement. Some authors revise
+every page as soon as they have written it. But, unless you are much
+pressed for time, it is best to do this next morning, when your
+perceptions are fresh and clear. In crossing or blotting out, do it
+effectually, so that the original words may not appear through, and
+remain still legible. If you find that you have omitted a word, or if
+you wish to change one word for another, interline it; inserting the new
+word just above the line to which it belongs, and placing this mark /\
+below. Lay aside each page as you finish it. Be particular in numbering
+every page; and it is best to do this before you begin, placing the
+number near the top of the right-hand corner. Let not your lines be too
+close, or there will not be space enough for legible interlining.
+
+If the publisher lives in your own town, it will be sufficient to roll
+up the manuscript in clean white paper, twisted at each end, and wafered
+in the middle. But however short the distance, write on the outside of
+the paper the full direction of the publishing office; that, in case of
+its being dropped in the street, any person finding it may know exactly
+where to take it.
+
+In putting up a large manuscript, in a packet for transmission to a
+distant place, use strong nankeen paper for the cover, and secure it
+with wafers, or paste, if it is to go a voyage in a steamer, as a wax
+seal may be melted by the heat of the fire. If it will reach its
+destination in a few hours, you may seal it with wax, having tied red
+tape about. Do not use twine, as that may cut the paper. Newspapers are
+generally put up in a brownish paper cover, pasted at the side and
+bottom, with one end left open.
+
+Postage is now so cheap, that manuscripts had best always be transmitted
+by mail; putting a sufficient number of stamps on the outside, all close
+to each other.
+
+Few women can write well enough for publication, without going twice
+over the subject; first in what is called the rough copy, and then
+making a fair copy with all the original errors corrected, and all
+proper alterations inserted. If you have time, make _two_ fair copies;
+one for the printer, and one to keep for yourself, in case the other
+should be accidentally destroyed or lost--retaining it till after the
+work is actually in print. Much postage is wasted, and much annoyance is
+given to the editors of periodicals, by applications for the restoration
+of unpublished verses, and other "Rejected Addresses," consisting,
+perhaps, of a sheet of poetry, or a few pages of prose, of which it
+would have been very easy to have made another copy for the author's
+keeping.
+
+In writing articles for Annuals, let it be remembered that the printing
+of these books is always completed some months before they are published
+or announced for sale. Therefore, all contributions should be sent to
+the publisher before February, or March at farthest. For a magazine,
+they should be transmitted at least two months in advance. For a weekly
+paper, two weeks ahead.
+
+Those who write for periodicals should remember that it is the custom
+to address all letters on compensations, copies of work, &c. to the
+publisher; and not to the editor, who seldom has any concern in the
+pecuniary affairs, his business being solely to receive, and read the
+manuscripts, to accept or reject them, and to arrange them for the
+press. It is not usual for the compensation to be paid till after the
+book is published. Some publishers send to every contributor one copy of
+the work. Others do not present a copy when the article is very
+short--for instance, a few stanzas of verse. Prose obtains a higher
+price than poetry, of which there is always a superabundance in the
+market. Much poetry is published without any pay at all; the writers
+being contented with seeing their effusions in print. No _good_ author
+has any occasion to write gratuitously. A "merely passable" or "just
+tolerable" writer of poetry or fiction, should give up the inventive
+line, and try something else--something for which genius is not
+indispensable; and from which, by patience and industry, a sort of
+living may be wrought out.
+
+In composing poetry, a common, but unpardonable fault is that of
+introducing a lame or halting line--a line with one syllable too many,
+or too few. And if the author does not understand that it is an
+intolerable blemish, and sends it uncorrected to the press, she is
+unworthy of being called a poetess. We are inclined to believe that no
+person devoid of an ear for music, can write poetry deserving of the
+name. The ideas may be good, but the lines will have no melody, and will
+move harshly and ruggedly, very much like rough prose.
+
+Some writers seem to think that blank verse is nothing but prose with a
+capital at the beginning of each line; never having learnt or remembered
+that though the lines do not rhyme, they must all comprise ten
+syllables, (syllables, not words,) otherwise the effect when read, will,
+to even a tolerable ear, be absolutely painful. We saw a play, (the
+first attempt of a since distinguished dramatist,) the dialogue of which
+was unintelligible to the audience, and nearly impracticable to the
+actors, who found it absolutely beyond their skill to enunciate; or
+rather beneath it. We afterward heard the manager of the Chestnut-street
+Theatre explain, that the difficulty, both with the speakers and the
+hearers, was the execrable blank verse in which the play was written;
+some of the lines containing but seven or eight syllables, (instead of
+ten,) and some twelve or fourteen. A very few English authors write
+irregular blank verse; but we are sorry to say that a great many
+Americans do not seem to understand the process, simple as it is, of
+confining themselves to ten syllables only,--neither more nor less. Can
+they have read Shakspeare?
+
+There is no blank verse in French poetry. That language seems incapable
+of it.
+
+If you are writing for a periodical, and are desirous of ascertaining
+before-hand how many pages your manuscript will make when printed, take,
+at random, any printed page of the work, and copy it in your usual hand,
+and on a sheet of the same paper you intend using throughout. You will
+thus, by comparison, be able to judge with tolerable accuracy, how much
+of your writing will make a page when printed.
+
+Keep a memorandum-book for the express purpose of setting down whatever
+relates to your literary affairs. Insert the day when you commenced a
+manuscript, the day when you finished it, and the day on which it went
+to the publisher. Also, the whole number of its pages. When you see it
+in print, put down the number of its printed pages. In this book, set
+down, _immediately on receiving them_, whatever sums are paid to you for
+your writings.
+
+If you are a writer of fiction, have a large book for memorandums, of
+any amusing or remarkable things you may chance to hear, and which you
+may turn to account afterward. If you write truth only, keep a book for
+the reception of useful or interesting facts. A written book of names,
+alphabetically arranged, (surnames and Christian names,) will be of
+great advantage in selecting appellations for your characters. Do not
+give elegant names to your common people; or to your patrician
+characters names that are coarse and vulgar. A fault in Dickens is that
+nearly all his names are rugged, uncouth, and ill-sounding, and seldom
+characteristic. Why should a very excellent and generous brother and
+sister be called Tom Pinch and Ruth Pinch. What did they pinch?
+
+There is a proof-reader in every printing-office, but after he has done,
+the proofs are generally sent to the author for farther revisal.
+
+In correcting proof-sheets, first see that they are quite dry. Draw your
+pen through any word you desire to change, and then write the new word
+on the margin, placing it even with the line of the rejected word. When
+you alter the punctuation, converting a comma into a semicolon, or a
+period into a note of admiration, make a slight mark on the margin of
+that line, that the printer may not overlook it. If you have occasion to
+change a whole sentence, cross it out, and put the new sentence on the
+margin at the bottom of the page.
+
+If the printer's boy can wait, you had best correct the proofs while he
+stays.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+CHILDREN.
+
+
+Miss Edgworth says that the education of a child begins at three months
+old. It is true that both bad and good habits may seem to commence at
+this early age; but we do not believe that in so slight a soil they take
+a very deep root, or that what is called a cross baby is sure to grow up
+an ill-tempered adult. Infants, when they are not really sick,
+frequently cry from some incidental annoyance, and not from a fretful
+disposition. If they feel comfortably they will usually be good-humoured
+and pleasant. Much of their comfort is sacrificed to the vanity of the
+mother in dressing them fashionably and expensively. We knew a baby that
+was very good in the morning, but very cross in the afternoon, or when
+dressed for show. And no wonder, for in her show-costume she was
+tortured with necklace, sleeve-loops, and bracelets of fine branchy, or
+rather briary coral, scratching and irritating her delicate skin, and
+leaving the print in red marks. On our representing this to the mother
+as the probable cause of the baby's fretfulness, the thorny ornaments
+were left off, and the child became amiable. Gold chains are also very
+irritating to the neck and arms of an infant. Coral beads of a smooth
+round form, strung evenly on a simple thread of silk, without any
+intermingling of gold chain, are, perhaps, the most comfortable
+necklaces for children, and are also very becoming; but as they are not
+expensive, they are of course not fashionable.
+
+Fortunately, the days of worked caps are over. Young ladies are no
+longer expected to cover pieces of cambric with elaborate cotton
+embroidery for the babies of their married friends, and the tender heads
+of the babies are no longer chafed with rough needle-work rubbing
+incessantly upon them, or heated with a silk lining to the cambric
+already thickened all over with close, heavy patterns. We wish also that
+mothers, generally, were less proud of seeing their babies with
+"luxuriant heads of hair," which if it has no natural tendency to curl,
+disfigures the child and gives it a wild, ungenteel look. If it does
+curl, it still heats the head and neck, and is said to draw away much
+strength from the system. The most healthy infants we have seen, had
+very little hair, or it was judiciously kept closely cut. To curl
+children's hair in papers is barbarous. They pay dearly for the glory of
+appearing in ringlets during the day, if they are made to pass their
+nights lying upon a mass of hard, rough bobs, about as pleasant as if
+they had their heads in a bag of hickory-nuts. But then the mother has
+the gratification of hearing their curls admired!
+
+Among other sufferings inflicted on babies is that of sending them out
+in bleak winter days with brimless hats, that, so far from screening
+their faces from the cold wind, do not even afford the slightest shade
+to their eyes, which are winking and watering all the time from the
+glare of the sun and snow. We have seen false curls pinned to these
+babies' hats, and dangling in their eyes.
+
+Another detestable practice is that of making the waists of children's
+frocks ridiculously long and painfully tight; particularly over the
+chest and body, which are thus pressed flat, to the utter ruin of the
+figure, and the risk of producing incurable diseases--such as
+consumption of the lungs, and projection of the spine; to say nothing of
+the various complaints connected with the stomach, which is thus
+squeezed into half its natural compass. Also, the sleeve-holes are so
+small and tight as to push up the shoulders. Then the hips are pressed
+downward far below their proper place, and the legs are consequently in
+danger of becoming short and bandy. Is it possible this vile fashion can
+continue much longer?--and are "the rising generation" really to grow up
+with high shoulders, round backs, flat chests, bodies that seem longer
+than their legs, and hips almost where their knees ought to be?
+
+Also, these limbs must suffer from cold in winter with no other covering
+than cotton stockings, the skirts of the dress scarcely reaching to the
+knees--the little boys disfigured with the ugliest of all garments,
+short knee-breeches.
+
+Add to all the rest of these abominations, tight boots with peaked toes,
+and can we wonder that children, even beyond the period of infancy,
+should, at times, be cross, irritable, and unamiable. How can they be
+otherwise, when they seldom feel comfortably? Then, if the parents can
+afford it, (or whether or not,) the unhappy children are bedizened with
+all manner of expensive finery, and interdicted from romping, lest they
+should injure it. But, what matter if the children suffer--the mother's
+vanity _must_ be gratified, and she _must_ have the delight of seeing
+that her boys and girls are as fashionably dressed as the little
+Thomsons and Wilsons and Jacksons.
+
+We look back with regret to the days when little girls, as well as boys,
+wore their hair closely cropped; convenient and cool, and showing to
+advantage the form of the head, till they were twelve or thirteen--and
+they wore only washable dresses, descending far below the knees, and
+with pantalets down to their ankles. In summer their frocks had short
+wide sleeves, and were _not_ close up to the throat. The bodies were of
+a natural length, the outside gathered full upon a moderately tight
+lining. If there is no lining to a full frock-body it will puff out at
+the back and front, and give the waist a look of deformity before and
+behind. Then the little girls went out in close cottage-bonnets of straw
+in summer, and beaver in winter--shading and screening their faces--and
+were kept warm when out of doors with long wide cloaks or coats of cloth
+or merino, instead of the fantastic short things now worn, with open
+sleeves and open fronts. Then, when at home, how innocent and childlike
+they looked in their long-sleeved convenient bib-aprons!--so much better
+than the short silk ones now worn, trimmed and bordered and ribboned,
+and rendered so fine that the children are expected to be as careful of
+injuring their showy aprons as of soiling their showy frocks.
+
+Formerly, children learned to play various amusing games, such as "Hot
+buttered beans," "Blind-man's bluff," &c. Now their play is chiefly
+running and squealing, and chasing each other about, without any
+definite object, except that of making a noise. Then, at a juvenile
+party, the amusement was chiefly in the varieties of these entertaining
+games. Now it is dancing--for as many as can find places to dance--and
+nothing at all for those who cannot, but to grow tired and sleepy. In
+former times, children's parties commenced at two o'clock in the
+afternoon in winter, and at four in summer. They played till they were
+summoned to a large and well-supplied tea-table, and were sent for to
+come home by eight o'clock, being then quite tired enough to go to bed
+and sleep soundly, and waken with pleasant recollections of yesterday.
+If the party was very large, the elder children sat round the room, and
+tea, &c. was handed to them, while the little ones were accommodated at
+a table where the hostess presided. The children of that time really
+enjoyed these parties, and so would those of the present time, if they
+could have such. The juvenile-party dress was then but a simple white
+muslin frock with a ribbon sash. We have since seen little girls at a
+summer party steadfastly refuse strawberries and cream, in obedience to
+the interdiction of their mothers; who had enjoined them to do so, lest
+they should stain or otherwise injure their elegant silk dresses.
+
+Fortunately, it is no longer fashionable for mothers to take their
+children with them on morning visits. On these occasions small children
+rarely behave well. They soon grow tired, and restless, and begin
+teazing to go somewhere else. Their presence is (or ought to be) a
+restraint on conversation, as much may be said during a visit that is
+not well for them to hear. They comprehend certain things far more
+easily than is supposed. Great mischief has ensued from allowing
+children to sit and listen; and there is no dependence on their
+discretion or secrecy.
+
+It is not well to put a small child "through its facings," by trying to
+make it exhibit any of its little feats before strangers. They are
+generally very reluctant to make this exhibition. Sometimes they are
+bashful, sometimes perverse; but if the mother persists in her attempt
+to show them off, it will probably prove a complete failure, and end in
+a cry, or that outbreak usually called a tantrum. By-the-bye, there is
+no better way of stopping a tantrum than quietly to divert the child's
+attention to something else.
+
+Beware of trusting an infant, too confidingly, to an European nurse; and
+when she carries out the baby, it would be well if an older sister or
+the mother herself could go along. Instead of carrying it to one of the
+public squares, or to some other place where there is air and shade, she
+may take it into dirty alleys, on a visit to some of her own relations,
+perhaps newly arrived in an emigrant ship, with the filth and diseases
+of a steerage passage still about them. This we know to have been done,
+and the child has in consequence taken a disgusting disease. Or,
+believing it a meritorious act, an Irish nurse may secretly carry the
+infant to a priest, and have it baptized in the Catholic church, herself
+standing godmother. Of this there have been numerous instances. Young
+children frequently acquire, from being too much with ignorant and
+vulgar nurses, bad habits of talking that are exceedingly difficult to
+eradicate--so lasting are early impressions. We have heard an Irish
+brogue from infantine lips; and the letter H sadly misused by the
+American nursling of a low Englishwoman. Above all, do not permit your
+own children to play with the children of their nurse. No good ever
+accrues from it.
+
+Children should not be brought to table till they are able to feed
+themselves, first with a spoon, and next with a fork. And not then,
+unless they can be depended on to keep quiet, and not talk. The
+chattering of children all dinner-time is a great annoyance to grown
+people. The shrill voice of a child can be distinguished annoyingly amid
+those of a whole company. They should be made to understand that if they
+talk at table, they are to be immediately taken away to finish their
+dinner in the nursery. On no consideration should they be admitted to
+table when there is a dinner-party. The foolish custom of having all the
+children dressed for the purpose, and brought in with the dessert, is
+now obsolete. It never was very prevalent, except in England.
+
+We have seen children so well and so early trained that they could be
+trusted to come to table every day without the least fear of their
+misbehaving by talking or otherwise. They sat quietly, asked for
+nothing, took contentedly whatever was put on their plates, made no
+attempt at helping themselves, and neither greased nor slopped the
+table-cloth; and when done, wiped their mouths and hands on their
+napkins, before they quitted their chairs, which they did at a sign from
+their mother; going out without noise, and neither leaving the door open
+nor slamming it hard. It is very easy to accustom children to these
+observances. Also, they may be taught very early, how to behave to
+visiters. For instance, not to pass between them and the fire, not to
+hang on the back of a lady's chair; or to squeeze close to her; or to
+get on her lap; or to finger her dress; or to search her reticule, or
+her pocket; or to ask a stranger for pennies or sixpences; or to tell
+her that she is not pretty; or to enquire "why she wears such an ugly
+bonnet?"
+
+We have known a fine little boy, not three years old, who, on the
+entrance of a friend of his mother's, would haul up a chair for her, and
+invite her to a seat near the fire, place a footstool at her feet, ask
+her to let him take her bonnet, and invite her to stay to dinner, to
+stay all day, and to "stay for ever," adding, "I try to be polite."
+
+There are very little girls who, if their mother is from home, can do
+the honours in her place; seat the visiter on the sofa, and press her to
+stay till their mother comes in; and if the lady declines doing so,
+they will ask her at least to stay awhile, and rest herself, and have a
+glass of cool water; and while she stays, they will do their best to
+entertain her. Such children always grow up with polished manners, if
+not removed from the influence that made them so in early life.
+
+Children should be early taught not to repeat the conversation of grown
+persons, and never to tell the servants any thing they have heard in the
+parlour. When they come home from school, they ought not to be
+encouraged in telling school-tales. If they dine out, never question
+them concerning what they had for dinner. Forbid their relating any
+circumstances concerning the domestic economy of the house at which they
+have been entertained.
+
+If a child purloins cakes or sweetmeats, punish him by giving him none
+the next time they are on table.
+
+At four years of age, a beginning should be made in teaching them to
+read, by hearing them the alphabet every day till they have learned it
+perfectly; and afterwards the first spelling-tables. With a quarter of
+an hour's daily instruction, a child of common capacity will, in six
+months, be able to spell in two or three syllables, and to read short
+easy stories with the syllables divided. At the end of the year, if her
+lessons are regular, and not so long as to tire her, she will, in all
+probability, take pleasure in reading to herself, when her lessons are
+over. Were they taught _out of story-books only_, there are few children
+that at the age of six years would find any difficulty in reading
+fluently. If _very_ intelligent, they often can read well at five. When
+they can once read, encourage them in the love of books; but do not set
+them at any other branch of education till they are eight. Then, their
+hands being strong enough to guide the pen firmly, they may commence
+writing copies. They should be supplied with slates and pencils at three
+years old. If they have any dormant talent for drawing, this will call
+it out. Little girls may begin to sew at four or five, but only as an
+amusement, not as a task. The best and most satisfactory dolls for young
+children are those of linen or rag, made very substantially. Much money
+is wasted in toys that afford them no amusement whatever; and toys that,
+being merely to look at, they grow tired of immediately, and delight in
+breaking to pieces.
+
+Never give an infant a book to play with. He will most assuredly tear
+it; that being the only amusement it can afford him. It is possible at a
+very early age to teach a tractable female child such a respect for
+books that she will never attempt to injure them. When they are old
+enough to take pleasure in looking at the pictures, it is easy to
+accustom them to be always satisfied with the books being shown to them
+in the hands of grown persons. Do not buy those books that have absurd
+and revolting prints of people with gigantic heads and diminutive
+bodies. Children always dislike them, and so they ought.
+
+Rejoice when a little girl shows a fondness for reading, and by all
+means encourage it. Keep her well supplied with good and entertaining
+books, and you will have little trouble with her. Do not needlessly
+interrupt, and call her off--but let her read in peace. It will do her
+more good than any thing else, and lay the foundation of an intelligent
+mind. A taste for reading, if not formed in early childhood, may perhaps
+never come at all. And then what a solace it is in bodily illness! How
+patiently a reading child, whose mind is stored with "pleasant
+memories," can bear pain, and submit to the confinement of a sick-bed.
+We have known more than one instance of the illness of a reading child
+taking a turn for the better, from the time she was indulged with an
+amusing and interesting book.
+
+There is no place in which children appear to greater disadvantage or
+are less ungovernable than at hotels or boarding-houses. We are always
+sorry when the circumstances of parents oblige them permanently to live
+thus in public, with their young families, who are consequently brought
+up in a manner which cannot but have an unfavourable effect in forming
+the characters of the future men and women. By way of variety, and that
+they may not always be confined up-stairs, the children are encouraged,
+or at least permitted by their mothers, to spend much of their time in
+the drawing-room, regardless of the annoyance which their noise and
+romping never fails to inflict upon the legitimate occupants of that
+apartment. The parents, loving their children too much to be incommoded
+themselves by any thing that their offspring can say or do, seem not
+aware that they can possibly interrupt or trouble the rest of the
+company. Or else, conscious of their own inability to control them,
+they are afraid to check the children lest they should turn restive,
+rebel, or break out into a tantrum. "Any thing for the sake of peace,"
+is a very foolish maxim where juveniles are concerned. By being firm
+once or twice, and dismissing them from the room when they deserve it,
+you may have peace ever after. The noisiest and most inconvenient time
+to have children in a public parlour is in the interval between their
+tea and their bed-time. Some children have no bed-time. And when they
+are tired of scampering and shouting, they lie about sleeping on the
+sofas, and cry if they are finally wakened, to go up with their mother
+when she retires for the night.
+
+Still worse is the practice that prevails in some hotels and
+boarding-houses, of the mothers sending the nurse-maids with the babies,
+to sit in the drawing-room among the ladies; who are thus liable to have
+a vulgar and obtrusive servant-girl, most probably "from the old
+country," boldly taking her seat in the midst of them, or conspicuously
+occupying one of the front-windows; either keeping up a perpetual
+undercurrent of fulsome, foolish talk to the baby, or listening eagerly
+to the conversation around her, and, perhaps, repeating it invidiously
+as soon as she gets an opportunity. If one lady sends her nurse-maid to
+sit in the drawing-room with the child, all the other mothers of babies
+immediately follow suit, and the drawing-room becomes a mere nursery.
+
+Every hotel should have a commodious and airy parlour set apart entirely
+for the children and nurses. The proprietors could easily afford to
+keep one good room for that purpose, if they would expend a little less
+on the finery of the parlours, &c. We have heard of an embroidered
+piano-cover, in a great hotel, costing fourteen hundred dollars, and the
+children pulling it down and dragging it about the floor. With a
+piano-cover of the usual cost, and other things less ostentatious, a
+children's parlour might well have been afforded in this very
+establishment.
+
+At a hotel, if the children come to the ladies' table, they are always
+in danger of eating food that is highly improper for them, and they very
+soon learn to help themselves to much more than they want, and to eat
+voraciously, in their desire to "have something of every thing." There
+is always a table purposely for those children whose parents pay
+half-price for them; and at which the housekeeper presides. However good
+this table may be, and though the pies and puddings may be excellent,
+the mothers are frequently dissatisfied with the absence of ice-cream,
+blanc-mange, charlotte-russe, &c., though certainly, were they in houses
+of their own, they would not have such things every day. Therefore,
+though it is "not in the bond," the mothers carry away from the table
+saucers of these delicacies, and the children learn to expect a daily
+supply of them from the ladies' dining-room. This, we must say, is a
+mean practice. We have, however, known some mothers, who, really being
+"honourable women," sent every day to a confectioner's to _buy_
+ice-cream for their children.
+
+There is danger at a hotel of little boys loitering about the bar or
+office, encouraged by unthinking young men, who give them "tastes of
+drink," and even amuse themselves by teaching them to smoke segars.
+
+And no children, either boys or girls, can live at a public house
+without hearing and seeing much that it is best they should not know.
+The English travellers deprecate the American practice of bringing up
+young people in hotels or boarding-houses. And they are right.
+
+When a lady, having with her a young child, and no nurse-maid, stops for
+a day at a hotel, she can avoid the inconvenience of taking the child
+with her to table, and incommoding herself and all who sit near her. She
+has only to entrust the little traveller to a chambermaid up-stairs;
+directing the girl how to take care of it, and promising her a gratuity
+for her trouble. She will rarely have cause to regret such an
+arrangement. It will spare the annoyance and mortification of having the
+child make a noise at table, and perhaps compelling the mother to go
+away with it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+DECORUM IN CHURCH.
+
+
+We wish it were less customary to go to church in gay and costly
+habiliments, converting its sacred precincts into a place for the
+display of finery, and of rivalry to your equally bedizened neighbours.
+In many Catholic countries,[17] a peculiar costume is universally
+adopted for visiting a place of worship--a very plain gown of entire
+black, with a long, black cloak, and a black hood finished with a veil
+that shades the face. This dress is kept for the purpose of wearing at
+church. We highly approve the custom, and wish that something similar
+could be introduced into the United States--particularly on the solemn
+occasions of taking the communion, or being confirmed as a Christian
+member. We have known young ladies to have elegant dresses made on
+purpose, and to get their hair dressed by a barber when preparing for
+confirmation.
+
+In a Sacred Melody of Moore's, St. Jerome tells us--
+
+    "Yet worldly is that heart at best,
+      Which beats beneath a broider'd veil;
+    And she who comes in glittering vest
+      To mourn her frailty--still is frail."
+
+Endeavour always to be in your pew before the service commences, and do
+not hurry out of it, hastily, the moment the benediction is finished; or
+begin visibly to prepare for departure as soon as it commences. Stay
+quietly till the mass of the crowd has gone.
+
+If you go into a strange church, or rather into a church where you are a
+stranger, wait in the vestibule till you see the sexton; and then
+request him to show you to a vacant seat, or rather to one which he
+believes will be that day unoccupied--for instance, if the family owning
+it is out of town. This is far better than to wander about the aisles
+alone, or to intrude yourself into a pew where you may cause
+inconvenience to its owners. If you see that a pew is full, you know, of
+course, that you cannot obtain a seat in it without dislodging somebody.
+
+Yet we have seen many a lady, on entering a church in which she was a
+stranger, walk boldly up the middle aisle to one of the best pews near
+the pulpit, and pertinaciously stand there, looking steadfastly at its
+rightful occupants, till one of them quitted his own seat, and gave it
+up to her, seeking for himself another place wherever he could find one.
+Those who go to strange churches should be contented with seats near the
+door; or at the lower end of the side-aisles; or up in the gallery.
+
+If a family invites you to go to church with them, or to come thither,
+and have a seat in their pew, do not take the liberty of asking a friend
+of your own to accompany you; and above all, do not bring a child with
+you.
+
+Should you (having a pew of your own) ask another lady to go with you,
+call for her in due time; and she ought to be quite ready. Place her in
+a corner-seat, (it being the most comfortable,) and see that she is
+accommodated with a foot-stool; and be assiduous in finding the places
+for her in the prayer-book, or hymn-book.
+
+In American churches there is much civility to strangers. We have often
+seen, when a person of respectable appearance was in quest of a seat,
+the doors of half a dozen pews kindly opened to admit him, and, as soon
+as he entered, a prayer-book offered to him open at the proper place.
+
+No good can result from taking children to church when they are too
+young to read, or to understand. They are always eager to go, because
+they like to go everywhere; but when once seated in the pew, they soon
+become tired and restless; and frequently there is no way to keep them
+quiet, but to let them go to sleep in the lap of the mother or elder
+sister. And then they are apt to cry whenever they waken. If there are
+two little boys, they are prone to get to playing, or what is far worse,
+quarrelling. And then if they make a noise, some elder member of the
+family is subjected to the mortification of conveying them out of
+church--perhaps by desire of the minister audibly expressed from the
+pulpit. We know clergymen who do not permit their children to be taken
+to church till they can read--convinced that if their first
+recollections of a place of worship are rather painful than pleasant,
+they are the less likely to grow up with a due regard for
+religion--that is, for religion of the heart--the spirit, and not merely
+the letter.
+
+We are sorry to see young ladies, on their way to church, laughing and
+talking loudly, and flirting with the beaux that are gallanting them
+thither. It is too probable that these beaux will occupy a large share
+of their thoughts during the hours of worship. Nay, there are some so
+irreverent, and so regardless of the sanctity of the place, as to
+indulge in frequent whispers to those near them, or to their friends in
+the adjoining pews.
+
+A lady of high fashion and fortune, formerly a resident of Philadelphia,
+was noted for the scandalous lightness and levity of her behaviour in
+church--laughing and talking, in more than whispers, nearly all the
+time, to the idle young men whom she always brought with her, and who,
+to do them justice, sometimes seemed rather ashamed of her conduct. Her
+pew was directly in front of the pulpit. One Sunday morning, Bishop
+White gave her a severe and merited rebuke, by stopping in his sermon,
+fixing his eyes sadly upon her, and bowing to her, as an intimation that
+till she had ceased he could not go on. We are sorry to add that the
+reproof had no other effect than to excite her anger, and caused her
+immediately to go out of church, highly exasperated. That lady went to
+live in Europe, and has not yet become a good woman, but greatly the
+contrary.
+
+"The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before
+him," was the solemn and impressive inscription over the altar of St.
+Augustine's church in Philadelphia.
+
+In visiting a church of a different denomination from your own, comply,
+as far as you can, with all the ceremonies observed by the congregation,
+particularly if you are in a foreign country. Even if some of these
+observances are not the least in conformity with your own opinions and
+feelings, remember that you are there as a guest, and have no right to
+offend or give displeasure to your hosts by evincing a marked
+disapprobation of their mode of worship. If you find it very irksome to
+refrain, (which it should not be,) you need not go a second time. Every
+religious sect believes its own faith to be the best; but God only knows
+which really is. Christ has said, "By their fruits ye shall know them."
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[17] The author is a Protestant.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+EVENING PARTIES.
+
+
+Having made out a list of the persons you intend to invite, proceed to
+write the notes; or have them written in a neat, handsome hand, by an
+experienced calligrapher. Fashion, in its various changes, sometimes
+decrees that these notes, and their envelopes, shall be perfectly plain,
+(though always of the finest paper,) and that the wax seals shall of
+course be very small. At other times, the mode is to write on embossed
+note paper, with bordered envelopes, secured by fancy wafers,
+transparent, medallion, gold or silver. If the seals are gold or silver,
+the edges or borders of the paper should be also gilt or silvered.
+Sometimes, for a very large or splendid party, the notes are engraved
+and printed on cards. Consult the Directory, to obtain the _exact_
+address of those to whom you send them.
+
+These invitations may be transmitted by one of the City post offices;
+first putting a stamp on each. Let the stamps be such as will leave
+nothing additional to be paid by the receiver. If they go through the
+United States Post-Office, the carrier will require another cent for
+each, beside the stamp. In Philadelphia, Blood's Dispatch Post may be
+trusted, as to punctuality, (if faithfully put into the letter-box at
+the proper time;) and there is no cost but that of the penny stamp which
+you put on yourself.
+
+Another way is to send round the notes by a reliable servant-man of your
+own; or to engage, for this purpose, one of the public waiters that are
+hired to attend at parties. The notes are usually sent either eight,
+seven, or six days before the party--if it is to be very large, ten days
+or two weeks. In the notes, always specify not only the day of the week,
+but also the day of the month, when the party is to take place. It is
+very customary now to designate the hour of assembling, and then the
+company are expected to be punctual to that time. People, _really
+genteel_, do not go ridiculously late. When a ball is intended, let the
+word "Dancing" be introduced in small letters, at the lower left-hand
+corner of the note.
+
+For a bridal party, subsequent to a wedding, the words now used are
+thus--
+
+    MR. AND MRS. S. M. MORLAND,
+          At Home, on Thursday evening, Sept. 22, 1853.
+
+Their residence must be given beneath, in a corner, and in smaller
+letters.
+
+Oblong slices of plumb-cake, iced all over, are now sent round in very
+pretty white card-board boxes, exactly fitting each slice, covered on
+the inside with lace-paper, and an engraved card of the bride and groom
+laid on the top of the cake. These boxes (to be had at the fancy
+stationers,) are of various prices; some of them are very elegant and
+costly.
+
+At wedding-parties, it is usual for the bride and bridesmaids to appear
+in exactly the same dresses they wore at the marriage; all of them
+ranged in their respective stations before the company begin to arrive.
+
+When the marriage-guests are not too numerous, it is customary to have
+all the company shown into the largest parlour, when they first arrive;
+the folding-doors being closed between. Meanwhile, the bride and groom,
+bridesmaids and groomsmen, with the heads of the family, arrange
+themselves in a line or a semi-circle; the most important personages in
+the centre, with the clergyman in front of them. When all is ready, the
+doors are thrown open, the guests advance, and the ceremony begins. When
+it is over, and the bride is receiving the compliments of her friends,
+we hope the silliest woman present will not go up and ask her the
+foolish question, "If she does not feel already like an old married
+woman?"
+
+A crowd at a wedding is now obsolete. We once heard of a marriage in a
+great family, where the company was so numerous that all the doors were
+blocked up, and quite inaccessible; and the bride could only make her
+entrance by being taken round outside, and lifted through a back
+window--the groom jumping in after her.
+
+Dancing at weddings is old-fashioned. A band of music playing in the
+hall is of no use, as on such occasions no one listens to it, and some
+complain of the noise. We think a marriage in church is not as fine a
+spectacle as may be imagined. The effect is lost in the size of the
+building, and broken up by the intervention of the aisles and pews; the
+wedding guests seated in the latter, and the former occupied by people
+out of the street, coming in to see the show. And this they will do, if
+not forcibly excluded; particularly idle boys, and nurse-maids with
+children, all trying to get as near the altar as possible.
+
+If the bride and groom are to set out on a journey immediately after the
+ceremony, it is best for her to be married in a handsome
+travelling-dress--new for the occasion, of course. This is often done
+now. She can reserve the usual wedding costume for her first party after
+returning home.
+
+In preparing for a party, it is well (especially if you have had but
+little experience yourself,) to send for one of the _best_ public
+waiters, and consult with him on the newest style of "doing these
+things." A respectable coloured man will be found the most efficient for
+this purpose. He can also give you an idea of the probable expense. We
+do not, of course, allude to magnificent entertainments, such as are
+celebrated in the newspapers, and become a nine days' wonder; and are
+cited as costing, not hundreds, but thousands of dollars.
+
+In case the required waiter should be pre-engaged, it is well to send
+for, and consult him, a week or two before your party.
+
+We knew a lady who, some years ago, sent for Carroll, (a very excellent
+mulatto man, well known in Philadelphia,) to officiate at a projected
+party. Carroll, in very polite terms, expressed that he was engaged for
+that identical evening to attend at a ball. "Then," said the lady, "you
+must try to furnish me with some one else, in your place. Where is
+Bogle?" "I know Bogle can't come," answered Carroll; "he is bespoke that
+night for a wedding." "Shepherd, then?" said the lady; "see if you
+cannot send me Shepherd." "As to Shepherd," replied Carroll, "he is sick
+in his bed, and like to keep so." "Where is Solomon King, then?" pursued
+the lady; "Solomon King will do very well." "Indeed, ma'am," answered
+Carroll, "I don't think Solomon King will suit you now, anyhow; he's
+taken very much to drink, and besides he's dead!"
+
+Apropos to the talk of coloured people.--We were told by a southern
+lady, that one of her girls being dressed for an entertainment given by
+a neighbour to the servants, came to her, and said: "Mistress, Becky has
+come for me to go with her; and she says _her_ mistress has gave her two
+grand words to say at the party.--Now, I want you to give _me_ two words
+that shall beat Becky's; for I know you are a heap smarter than _her_
+mistress."
+
+"Tell me the words given by Becky's mistress," said my informant.
+
+"Yes, ma'am.--One is _Desdemona_, and one is _Cataplasm_!"
+
+No doubt, Becky, in some way, contrived to say them both.
+
+In engaging your presiding genius, it is well to desire him to come on
+the morning of the party; he will be found of great advantage in
+assisting with the final preparations. He will attend to the silver, and
+china, and glass; and see that the lamps are all in order, and that the
+fires, coal-grates, furnaces, &c., are in proper trim for evening. He
+will bring with him (at whatever hour you indicate,) his "young men," as
+he calls them; (if coloured youths, they are too genteel to answer to
+the name of boys;) and these are his apprentices that he has in training
+for the profession.
+
+One of these men should be stationed in the vestibule, or just within
+the front door. On that evening, (if not at other times,) let this door
+be furnished with a lamp, placed on a shelf or bracket in the fan-light,
+to illumine the steps, and shine down upon the pavement, where the
+ladies cross it on alighting from the carriages. If the evening proves
+rainy, let another man attend with an umbrella, to assist in sheltering
+them on their way into the house. The ladies should all wear over-shoes,
+to guard their thin slippers from the damp, in their transit from the
+coach to the vestibule.
+
+At the top, or on the landing-place, of the first stair-case, let
+another man be posted, to show the female guests to their dressing-room;
+while still another waiter stays near the gentlemen's room till the
+company have done arriving.
+
+In the apartment prepared as a fixing-room for the ladies two or more
+women should be all the evening in attendance; both rooms being well
+warmed, well lighted, and furnished with all that may be requisite for
+giving the last touches to head, feet, and figure, previous to entering
+the drawing-room. When ready to go down, the ladies meet their gentlemen
+in the passage between the respective dressing-rooms; the beaux being
+there already, waiting for the belles, who must not detain them
+long--men being very impatient on these, and all other occasions.
+
+If any lady is without an escort, and has no acquaintances at hand to
+take her under their wing, she should send for the master of the house
+to meet her near the door, and give her his arm into the drawing-room.
+He will then lead her to the hostess, and to a seat. Let her then bow,
+as a sign that she releases him from farther attendance, and leaves him
+at liberty to divide his civilities among his other guests.
+
+In the ladies' room, (beside two toilet glasses with their branches
+lighted,) let a Psyche or Cheval glass be also there. Likewise, a
+hand-mirror on each toilet to enable the ladies to see the back of their
+heads; with an ample supply of pins, combs, brushes, hair pins, &c.; and
+a work-box containing needles, thread, thimble, and scissors, to repair
+accidents to articles of dress. Let there be bottles of fine eau de
+cologne, and camphor and hartshorn, in case of faintings. Among the
+furniture, have a sofa and several foot-stools, for the ladies to sit on
+if they wish to change their shoes.
+
+The women attending must take charge of the hoods, cloaks, shawls,
+over-shoes, &c.; rolling up together the things that belong to each
+lady, and putting each bundle in some place they can easily remember
+when wanted at the breaking up of the assembly.
+
+It is now the custom for the lady of the house (and those of her own
+family,) to be dressed rather plainly, showing no desire to eclipse any
+of her guests, on this her own night. But her attire, though simple,
+should be handsome, becoming, and in good taste. Her business is,
+without any bustle or apparent officiousness, quietly and almost
+imperceptibly to try and render the evening as pleasant as possible to
+all her guests; introducing those who, though not yet acquainted, ought
+to be; and finding seats for ladies who are not young enough to continue
+standing.
+
+The custom that formerly prevailed in the absurd days of crowds and
+jams, when dense masses were squeezed into small apartments, of removing
+every seat and every piece of furniture from the room, is now obsolete.
+A hard squeeze is no longer a high boast. Genteel people no longer go to
+parties on the stair-case, or in the passages. The ladies are not now so
+compressed that nothing of them is seen but their heads; the sleeves,
+skirts, &c., undergoing a continual demolition down below. We knew of a
+lady, who, at a late hour, went to a crowded party in a real blonde
+dress, which was rubbed entirely off her before she reached the centre
+of the room, and it was hanging about her satin skirt in shreds, like
+transparent rags dissolving into "air--thin air!" For this blonde she
+had given two hundred dollars; and she was obliged to go home and
+exchange its tatters for a costume that was likely to last out the
+evening.
+
+In houses where space is not abundant, it is now customary to have
+several _moderate_ parties in the course of the season, instead of
+inviting all your "dear five hundred friends" on the self-same night.
+
+When the hour of assembling is designated in the notes of invitation,
+(as it always should be,) the guests, of course, will take care to
+arrive as nearly as possible about that hour. At large parties, tea is
+usually omitted--it being supposed that every one has already taken that
+beverage at home, previous to commencing the business of the toilette.
+Many truly hospitable ladies still continue the custom, thinking that it
+makes a pleasant beginning to the evening, and exhilarates the ladies
+after the fatigue of dressing and arriving. So it does. For a large
+company, a table with tea, coffee, and cakes, may be set in the
+ladies-room, women being in attendance to supply the guests with those
+refreshments before they go down. Pitchers of ice-water and glasses
+should also be kept in this room.
+
+If there is no tea, the refreshments begin with lemonade, macaroons,
+kisses, &c., sent round soon after the majority of the company has come.
+If there _is_ tea, ice-water should be presented after it, to all;
+otherwise, there will be much inconvenience by numerous ladies
+dispatching the servants, separately, to bring them some.
+
+After a little time allotted to conversation, music is generally
+introduced by one of the ladies of the family, if she plays well;
+otherwise, she invites a competent friend to commence. A lady who can do
+nothing "without her notes," or who cannot read music, and play at
+sight, is scarcely enough of a musician to perform in a large
+company--for this incapacity is an evidence that she has not a good ear,
+or rather a good memory for melody--or that her musical talent wants
+more cultivation. A large party is no time or place for practising, or
+for risking _attempts_ at new things, or for vainly trying to remember
+old ones.
+
+Some young ladies rarely sit down to a piano in any house but their own,
+without complaining that the instrument is out of tune. "It is a way
+they have." We have known a fair amateur to whom this complaint was
+habitual, and never omitted; even when we knew that, to provide against
+it, the piano had really been tuned that very day.
+
+The tuning of a harp immediately before playing is sometimes a very
+tedious business. Would it not be well for the harpist to come a little
+earlier than the rest, and tune it herself previous to their arrival?
+And let her deem _that_ tuning sufficient for a while, and not repeat
+the operation more than once again in the course of the evening,
+especially in the midst of her first piece. However delicate may be her
+own ear, or exquisitely fastidious her own taste, she may be assured
+that few of her audience would detect any deficiency, if she only went
+quietly on, and did not herself imply that deficiency.
+
+Unless a gentleman is himself familiar with the air, let him not, on
+"mounting guard beside the piano," volunteer to turn over the pages for
+the lady who is playing. He will certainly turn them over too soon or
+too late, and therefore annoy and confuse her. Still worse, let him not
+attempt to accompany her with his voice, unless he is an excellent
+musician, or accustomed to singing with her.
+
+For the hearers to crowd closely round the instrument, is smothering to
+the vocalist. Let them keep at a proper distance, and she will sing the
+better, and they will hear the better. It is so rude to talk during a
+song, that it is never done in company; but a little low conversation is
+sometimes tolerated in the adjoining room, during the performance of one
+of those interminable pieces of instrumental music, whose chief merit
+lies in its difficulty, and which (at least to the ears of the
+uninitiated,) is rather a bore than a pleasure. We have read a French
+novel, in which the only child of a farmer has just come home from a
+provincial boarding-school, and the seigneur, or lord of the manor, has
+volunteered a visit to these his respected tenants. The mother, amidst
+all the bustle of preparing a great dinner for the occasion, comes in to
+remind Annette that if the seigneur should ask her to play for him, she
+is to curtsey very low, and thank him for the honour. "And then,
+Annette," adds the good old dame, "be sure to play that tune which your
+father and I hate so much!"
+
+By the bye, it is very old fashioned to return thanks to a lady for her
+singing, or to tell her she is very kind to oblige the company so often.
+If she is conscious of really singing well, and sees that she delights
+her hearers, she will not feel sensible of fatigue--at least till the
+agreeable excitement of conscious success is over.
+
+It is ill-mannered, when a lady has just finished a song, for
+another lady to exclaim in her hearing--"Mary Jones sings that
+delightfully!"--or--"How charmingly Susan Smith gives us that
+ballad!" Let the glories of Mary Jones and Susan Smith rest, for
+that evening, within the limits of their own circle.
+
+Do not ask any lady for a song that has already been sung on this very
+evening by another person.
+
+People who have no idea of music sometimes make strange blunders in
+their requests. We know of a female who, at a large party, hearing a
+young lady accompany her voice on the national instrument of Spain,
+became very urgent to have the Battle of Prague performed on the guitar.
+
+It is sometimes fashionable, when the company is not too large for what
+is called "a sitting party," to vary the amusements of the evening by
+introducing some of the numerous plays or games which are always the
+delight of fine children, and which, by way of variety, frequently
+afford much diversion to adults. It is not necessary that all these
+plays should become "a keen encounter of the wits," or that all the
+players should be persons of talent. But it is certainly desirable that
+the majority of the company should have some tact, and some quickness of
+parts; that they should have read some books, and mixed somewhat with
+the world--otherwise, they will not be clever even at playing plays.
+Those who are incapable of understanding, or entering into the spirit of
+a play, would do well to excuse themselves from joining in it, and
+prefer sitting by as spectators. Many young ladies can play nothing
+beyond "How do you like it?" and are not great at that--saying, when the
+question is put to them--"Me! I am sure I don't know how I like
+it--can't you pass me by?" You may as well take her at her word, pass
+her by, and proceed on to her next neighbour; for if she _does_ concoct
+an answer, it will probably, if the word is "_brush_" be liked "to sweep
+the hearth with;" or if "_Hat_" is the word, it will be liked "_of
+Beaver_"--or something equally palpable.
+
+Such plays as _The Lawyer_, and _The Secret Word_, are very entertaining
+in good hands, but complete failures when attempted by the dull or
+illiterate. The amusing game of Proverbs had best be given up for that
+evening, if, on trial, it is found that few of the ladies have any
+knowledge of those true, though homely aphorisms, that have been aptly
+called "the concentrated wisdom of nations."
+
+We know a very ingenious gentleman who, in playing the Secret Word,
+contrives to introduce that word in some very short and very humorous
+anecdote.
+
+A family, on one side of European origin, made a visit to the
+transatlantic continent, where they found, still living in a certain
+great city, a relative connected with an ancient branch of nobility.
+This rendered them more genteel than ever--and when, covered with glory,
+they returned to this poor republic of ours, the names of nobles, and
+even of princes, with whom they had associated, were "familiar in their
+mouths as household words." At a party where these personages were so
+engaged in talking, that they forgot to keep the run of the plays; a new
+game was commenced by a young gentleman slipping out of the room, and
+then returning with a very lugubrious visage, and announcing, in a
+melancholy tone, the death of a certain monarch, whom all the company
+were immediately to unite in lamenting loudly, on pain of paying
+forfeits unless they steadily persisted in their dismal faces. On the
+sad intelligence being proclaimed--"The king of Bohemia is dead!"--one
+of our travelled ladies mistaking it for a solemn truth, turned to her
+daughter with--"Ah! Caroline! did you hear that? The dear good king of
+Bohemia, who was so kind to us whenever we attended his court!" "Oh!
+mamma!" replied Caroline, putting her handkerchief to her eyes--"the
+news is really heart-breaking. He paid us so much attention all the time
+we were in ----, in his dominions. It will be long before we cease
+grieving for the king of Bohemia."
+
+The gentleman who brought this deplorable news also had recourse to
+_his_ handkerchief, and slipped out into the hall to indulge his mirth;
+and several others slipped out after him for the same purpose. No one,
+however, undeceived these ladies, and for several days at their morning
+calls they continued to mourn for the king of Bohemia.
+
+Conundrums[18] afford infinite diversion at a small party, provided the
+company, like Billy Black's cat, "almost always gives up." Long guessing
+occupies too much time; a commodity of which we Americans seldom have
+any to spare.
+
+Early in the Mexican war, a premium was awarded in Philadelphia for a
+very clever conundrum, alluding to a certain "Bold Dragoon" at Palo
+Alto. "In what manner did Captain May cheat the Mexicans?" "He charged
+them with a troop of horse which they never got."
+
+Our confectioners, in making up the _bon bons_ called "_secrets_,"
+instead of enfolding with the sugar-plumb a printed slip containing a
+contemptible distich, would do well to have good conundrums printed,
+(with the answer,) and enclosed in the ornamented papers. They would
+certainly be more popular than the old-fashioned mottoes--such, for
+instance, as
+
+    "My heart, like a candle of four to the pound,
+    Consumes all the day, and no comfort is found."
+
+Yet the above is one of the least bad. Most of these mottoes are so flat
+as to be not even ridiculous.
+
+At a dancing party, the ladies of the house decline joining in it, out
+of politeness to their guests, till towards the latter part of the
+evening, when the company begins to thin off, and the dancers are
+fatigued.
+
+We admire a charming girl, who, in her own house, being asked to dance
+by an agreeable man, has the self-denial to say to him--"Being at home,
+and desirous that my friends shall share as much as possible in the
+enjoyments of the evening, I would rather refrain from dancing myself.
+Let me present you to Miss Lindley, or to Miss Darwood; you will find
+either of these young ladies a delightful partner."
+
+These amiable refusals we have heard from our amiable and unselfish
+young friends, and such, we hope, are heard often in what is _truly_
+"the best society."
+
+Ladies who are strangers in the place, are, by courtesy, entitled to
+particular attention from those who know them.
+
+We have sometimes seen, at a private ball, the least attractive woman
+dancing every set, (though acquitting herself very ill,) while handsome
+and agreeable ladies were sitting still. The mystery was solved on
+finding that the lady of the house carried her ultra benevolence so very
+far, as to make a business of procuring partners all the time for this
+unlovely and unprepossessing female, lest she should feel neglected. Now
+a certain portion of this officiousness is highly praiseworthy, but too
+much of it is a great annoyance to the victimized gentlemen--especially
+to those who, as a backwoodsman would say, are certainly "some
+pumpkins."
+
+Even the most humane man, whatever may be the kindness of his heart,
+would rather not exhibit himself on the floor with a partner _ni jeune
+ni jolie_, who is ill-dressed, looks badly, moves ungracefully, can
+neither keep time to the music nor understand the figure, and in fact
+has "no dancing in her soul." If, with all the rest, she is dull and
+stupid, it is cruel for any kind friend to inflict her on a gentleman
+as a partner. Yet such things we have seen.
+
+On one occasion we threw away a great deal of good pity on a youth, whom
+we thought had been inveigled into quadrilling with a lady who made the
+worst figure we ever saw in a ball-room. We afterwards learned that he
+had actually solicited the introduction; and we saw that he devoted
+himself to her all the remainder of the evening. She was a rich heiress.
+
+Self-knowledge is a rare acquirement. But when a lady _does_ suspect
+herself to be deficient in all the essential qualifications of a
+ball-room, she should give up dancing entirely, and be magnanimous
+enough always to excuse herself positively, when asked to dance;
+especially if verging on "a certain age." Let all "trippings on the
+light fantastic toe" be left to the young and gay.
+
+A deformed woman dancing is "a sorry sight." She should never consent to
+any such exhibition of her unhappy figure. She will only be asked out of
+mere compassion, or from some interested and unworthy motive. We are
+asked--"Why should not such a lady dance, if it gives her pleasure?" We
+answer--"It should _not_ give her pleasure."
+
+When a lady is so unfortunate as to have a crooked, or misshapen person,
+it is well for her to conceal it as much as possible, by wearing a
+shawl, a large cape, a mantilla, a long sacque, (not a polka jacket;)
+and on no account a tight-bodied pelisse; or still worse, a
+spencer--than which last, nothing is more trying to the form of the
+waist, except a riding-habit.
+
+We saw Frederika Bremer at an evening assemblage, and she was so
+judiciously attired, that her personal defects did not prevent her from
+looking really well. Over a rich black satin dress, she wore a long
+loose sacque of black lace, lined with grey silk. From beneath the short
+sleeves of her sacque, came down long wide sleeves of white lace,
+confined with bracelets round her fair and delicate little hands. Her
+throat was covered closely with a handsome collar of French embroidered
+muslin, and her beautiful and becoming cap was of white lace, white
+flowers, and white satin ribbon--her light hair being simply parted on
+her broad and intellectual forehead. With her lively blue eyes, and the
+bright and pleasant expression of her countenance, no one seemed to
+notice the faults of her nose, mouth, and complexion--and those of her
+figure were so well concealed as to be scarcely apparent. And then her
+lady-like ease, and the total absence of all affectation, rendered her
+graceful and prepossessing. True it is, that with a good heart and a
+good mind no woman can be ugly; at least, they soon cease to be so
+considered, even if nature has been unkind to them in feature, figure,
+and complexion. An intelligent eye, and a good humoured mouth, are
+excellent substitutes for the want of regular beauty. Physiognomists say
+that the eye denotes the mind, and the mouth indicates the heart.
+
+Now as a deformed lady may render herself very agreeable as a good
+conversationist, we repeat that she has no occasion to exhibit the
+defects of her person by treading the mazes of a cotillion, or above
+all, in going down a country dance, should those "never-ending, still
+beginning" performances come again into fashion. Young men say that an
+ugly, misshapen female, who waltzes, or joins in a polka, or redowa, or
+mazurka, deserves the penitentiary.
+
+We deprecate the practice of keeping the small children of the family up
+all the evening, running and scampering in every one's way, or sleeping
+about on the chairs and sofas, and crying when wakened up to be carried
+to bed. Would it not be much better to have them sent to bed at their
+usual time? We knew two well-trained little boys, who submitted
+obediently to go to bed at their customary hour, on the night of their
+mother's party, of which they had seen nothing but the decorations of
+the parlours. They told their parents next morning, that still they had
+a great deal of pleasure, for after the carriages began to arrive, they
+had lain awake and "heard every ring."
+
+At a large party, or at a wedding, there is generally a supper table;
+lemonade and cakes having been sent round during the evening. The host
+and hostess should see that _all_ the ladies are conducted thither, and
+that none are neglected, particularly those that are timid, and stand
+back. It is the business of the host to attend to those himself, or to
+send the waiters to them.
+
+If the party is so large that all the ladies cannot go to the table at
+once, let the matrons be conducted thither first, and the young ladies
+afterwards. If there is a crowd, it is not unusual to have a cord (a
+handsome one, of course,) stretched across the door of the supper-room,
+and guarded by a servant, who explains that no more are to pass till
+after that cord is taken down. Meanwhile, the younger part of the
+company amuse themselves in the adjacent rooms. No lady should take the
+liberty of meddling with the flowers that ornament the table, or of
+secreting "good things" to carry home to her children.
+
+Apropos to flowers.--The stiff, hard bouquets are now obsolete, where
+the flowers (stripped of their natural green leaves,) were tied _en
+masse_ on a wooden skewer, against a flat back-ground of cedar sprays.
+The more elegant arrangement is revived of arranging them in a full
+round cluster, with a fair portion of their real leaves; the largest and
+finest flowers in the centre, (large white ones particularly); those of
+middle size next; and the light, long, and branchy sprays and tendrils
+at the extremities, the smallest near the bottom of the bouquet, which
+is not so large and massy as formerly, but more graceful and select. The
+bouquet may be carried on the young lady's arm, suspended to a long and
+handsome white ribbon tied in a bow--a _coloured_ ribbon will disturb
+the effect of the flowers. There should be nothing to interfere with
+their various and beautiful tints.
+
+At a ball, let no _coloured_ chalks or crayons be used for the floor.
+They will rub off on the white shoes of the ladies, and spoil them.
+
+When, instead of _setting_ a supper-table, refreshments are handed round
+to the ladies, the fashion has long since gone by of a gentleman walking
+beside each waiter, and "assisting the ladies." It is now found that if
+the articles are properly arranged, and of the proper sort, the ladies
+can much more conveniently help themselves, and with less risk of
+staining or greasing their dresses. Unless the gentleman was "a
+thorough-going party-man," and stereotyped as such, he often committed
+rather vexatious blunders, particularly if he was not _au-courant_ to
+the new improvements, and accustomed to being "at good men's feasts;" or
+rather, at _women's good feasts_. One evening at a party, we saw an
+"ingenuous youth," whose experience in that line must have been rather
+limited, officiously undertake the portioning out to the ladies of a
+composition hitherto quite new to himself. This was "a trifle," being
+the contents of a very large glass bowl, filled with macaroons, &c.,
+dissolved in wine, &c., with profuse layers of custard, sweetmeats, &c.,
+and covered in at the top with a dome of whipt cream heaped high and
+thick over the whole. The pea-green youth assisted the ladies to nothing
+but saucers of froth from the top, thinking that was the right way. At
+last, the mulatto man, whose superior tact must have been all this time
+in a state of suffering, explained to the novice in trifles, that a
+portion of all the various contents of the glass bowl should be allotted
+to each saucer. "That!" said the surprised doer of honours, "I thought
+all that was only the grounds!" The coloured man relieved him by taking
+the silver server round a second time to all the ladies, who had
+hitherto missed the sediment of the syllabub.
+
+At a summer evening party, the refreshments are of a much lighter
+description than at a winter entertainment; consisting chiefly of
+ice-creams, water-ices, fresh fruit, lady-cake, and almond sponge-cake.
+Also strawberry or raspberry charlottes, which are made by arranging in
+glass bowls slices of cake cut in even and regular forms, and spread
+thickly over with the fruit mashed to a jam with white sugar--the bowls
+being heaped with whipt cream.
+
+The dresses of the ladies are of clear muslin, or some other light
+material, and without any elaborate trimming. The hair is simply
+arranged--curls being inconvenient in warm weather; and the only head
+ornaments are ribbons, or _real_ flowers.
+
+At summer evening-parties the veranda is always put into requisition,
+being cooler than any part of the house.
+
+At summer dinner-parties, let the dessert be served in another and
+cooler apartment; the company quitting the dining-room as soon as they
+have done with the meats, &c. The beauties of the dessert appear to
+greater advantage, when seen all at one view on a fresh table.
+
+We will introduce a minute account of a very fashionable English
+dinner-party, obtained from a friend who was one of the guests. It may
+afford some hints for the routine of an elegant entertainment, _à
+l'Anglais_, in our own country.
+
+The guests were twenty-four in number, and they began to assemble at
+half past seven, punctually. They were received in the library, where
+the host and hostess were standing ready to receive them, introducing
+those who were strangers to each other. When all had arrived, the butler
+entered, and going up to the lady of the house, told her in a low voice
+that "dinner was served." The hostess then arranged those that were not
+previously acquainted, and the gentlemen conducted the ladies to the
+dining-room; the principal stranger taking the mistress of the house,
+and the master giving his arm to the chief of the female guests. In
+England, these arrangements are made according to the rank of the
+ladies--that of the gentlemen is not considered. A duchess takes
+precedence of a marchioness, a viscountess of a countess, a baroness of
+a baron_et_'s lady, &c.,--for a baron is above a baronet. Going into the
+dining-room, the company passed by the butler and eight footmen, all of
+whom were stationed in two rows. The butler was dressed entirely in
+black--the footmen in their livery. According to a new fashion, they may
+now wear long gaiters. White kid gloves are indispensable to the
+footmen.
+
+The table was set for twenty-six--and standing on it were elegant gilt
+candelabras. _All_ the lights were wax candles. Chandeliers were
+suspended from the ceiling. In the middle of the table was a magnificent
+plateau, or centre ornament of gold; flowers surmounted the summit; and
+the circular stages below were covered with confectionery elegantly
+arranged. On each side of the plateau, and above and below, were tall
+china fruit-baskets. In the centre of each basket were immense
+pine-apples of hot-house growth, with their fresh green leaves. Below
+the pine-apples were large bunches of purple and white hot-house
+grapes, beautifully disposed, with leaves and tendrils hanging over the
+sides of the baskets. Down each side of the whole long table, were
+placed large, round, saucer-shaped fruit-dishes, heaped up with peaches,
+nectarines, pears, plumbs, ripe gooseberries, cherries, currants,
+strawberries, &c. All the fruits not in season were supplied from
+hot-houses. And alternating with the fruit were all the _entremets_ in
+covered dishes, placed on long slips of damask the whole length of the
+table. All the plate was superb. The dinner-set was of French china,
+gilt, and painted with roses. At every plate was a caraffe of water,
+with a tumbler turned down over it, and several wine-glasses. The
+napkins were large. The side-board held only the show-silver and the
+wine. The side-tables were covered with elegant damask cloths. On these
+were ranged, laid along in numerous rows, the knives, forks, and spoons
+to be used at dinner. The dessert-spoons were in the form of hollow
+leaves, the stems being the handles. They were beautifully engraved in
+tasteful patterns. The fruit-knives had silver blades and pearl handles.
+There were two soups (white and brown,) standing on a side-table. Each
+servant handed the things in his white kid gloves, and with a damask
+napkin under his thumb. They offered (mentioning its name in a low
+voice,) a plate of each soup to each guest. After the soup, Hock and
+Moselle wine were offered to each guest, that they might choose either.
+A dish of fish was then placed at each end of the table--one was salmon,
+the other turbot. These dishes were immediately taken off to be helped
+by the servants, both sorts of fish being offered to each person. Then
+the appropriate sauce for the fish--also cucumbers to eat with the
+salmon. No castors were on the large table, but they were handed round
+by the servants. Directly after the fish came the _entremets_, or French
+dishes. The wine following the fish was Madeira and Sherry.
+
+Afterwards, a saddle or haunch of Welsh mutton was placed at the
+master's end of the table, and at the lady's end a boiled turkey. These
+dishes being removed to the side-tables, very thin slices of each were
+handed round. The poultry was not dissected--nothing being helped but
+the breast. Ham and tongue was then supplied to those who took poultry;
+and currant-jelly to the eaters of mutton. Next came the vegetables,
+handed round on dishes divided into four compartments, each division
+containing a different sort of vegetable.
+
+Next, two dishes of game were put on--one before the master of the
+house, and the other before the mistress. The game (which was perfectly
+well-done,) was helped by them, and sent round with the appropriate
+sauce. Then, placed along the table, were the sweet things--charlottes,
+jellies, frozen fruit, &c. A lobster salad, dressed and cut up large,
+was put on with the sweets. On a side-table were stilton and cream
+cheese, to be eaten with the salad. After this, port wine--the champagne
+being early in the dinner. Next the sweets were handed round. With the
+sweets were frozen fruits--fruits cut up, and frozen with
+isinglass-jelly, (red, in moulds.)
+
+Next, a dessert plate was given to each guest, and on it a ground glass
+plate, about the size of a saucer. Between these plates was a
+crochet-worked white doyly, of the size of the under-plate; the
+crochet-work done with thread, so as to resemble lace. These doylies
+were laid under the ground-glass plate, to deaden the noise of their
+collision. Then was brought from the side-table a ground-glass plate of
+ice-cream, or water-ice, which you took in exchange for that before you.
+The water-ice was frozen in moulds, in the form of fruit, and suitably
+coloured. The baskets containing the fruit were then removed to the
+side-tables, where the servants had silver scissors, with which they
+clipped off small bunches of the grapes, and the green tops of the
+pine-apples, and a portion of the flesh of the fruit. The middle part
+was then pared and sliced. On each dessert-plate was placed a slice of
+pine-apple, and small bunches of white and blue grapes. After the grapes
+and pine-apples were thus handed round, the dishes of the other fruits
+were then offered successively to every guest. After the ground-glass
+and doylies, there was no farther change of plates.
+
+After sitting a while over the fruit, the lady of the house gives the
+signal, by looking and bowing to the ladies on each side, and the ladies
+at this signal prepare to retire. The gentlemen all rise, and remain
+standing while the ladies depart--the master of the house holding the
+door open. The servants then all retire, except the butler, who remains
+to wait on the gentlemen, while they linger awhile (not more than a
+quarter of an hour,) over the fruit and wine.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[18] Miss Leslie's American Girl's Book (published by C. S. Francis,)
+contains a great variety of amusing plays, ways to redeem forfeits, &c.,
+with an unusual number of conundrums.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+MISCELLANIES.
+
+
+It may be well to caution our young friends against certain bad
+practices, easily contracted, but sometimes difficult to relinquish. The
+following are things not to be done:--Biting your nails. Slipping a ring
+up and down your finger. Sitting cross-kneed, and, jogging your feet.
+Drumming on the table with your knuckles; or, still worse, tinking on a
+piano with _your fore-finger only_. Humming a tune before strangers.
+Singing as you go up and down stairs. Putting your arm round the neck of
+another young girl, or promenading the room with arms encircling waists.
+Holding the hand of a friend all the time she sits beside you; or
+kissing and fondling her before company. Sitting too closely.
+
+Slapping a gentleman with your handkerchief, or tapping him with your
+fan. Allowing him to take a ring off your finger, to look at it.
+Permitting him to unclasp your bracelet, or, still worse, to inspect
+your brooch. When these ornaments are to be shown to another person,
+always take them off for the purpose. Pulling at your own ringlets, or
+your own ear-rings--or fingering your neck ribbon. Suffering a
+gentleman to touch your curls. Reading with a gentleman off the same
+book or newspaper. Looking over the shoulder of any person who is
+reading or writing. Taking up a _written_ paper from the table, and
+examining it.
+
+To listen at door-cracks, and peep through key-holes, is vulgar and
+contemptible. So it is to ask children questions concerning their
+parents, though such things are still done.
+
+If you mean that you were angry, do not say you were "mad."--"It made me
+so mad"--"I was quite mad at her," are phrases not to be used by people
+considering themselves genteel. Anger and madness are not the same, or
+should not be; though it is true that ungoverned rage, is, sometimes,
+carried so far as to seem like insanity.
+
+Enter into no freaks of fashion that are silly, unmeaning, and
+unlady-like; even if they _have_ been introduced by a belle, and
+followed by other belles. Commit no absurdity because a public singer or
+dancer has done so in her ignorance of good behaviour. During the Jenny
+Lind fever, there were young ladies who affected to skuttle into a
+drawing-room all of a sudden, somewhat as the fair Swede came skuttling
+in upon the concert stage, because in reality she knew not how to make
+her entrance gracefully. Other demoiselles twined and waved about, with
+body, head, and eyes, never a moment quiet. This squirming (as it was
+called) originated in a very bad imitation of Fanny Elssler's dancing
+motions. At one time there were girls at parties, who stood on one
+foot, and with the other kicked up their dresses behind, while talking
+to gentlemen. This fashion began with a celebrated beauty who "dared do
+any thing." Luckily, these "whims and oddities" are always of short
+duration, and are never adopted by young ladies of good taste and
+refinement.
+
+Do not nod your head, or beat time with fan or foot while listening to
+music.
+
+Never at a party consent to accompany another lady in a duet, unless you
+are accustomed to singing with her. Still worse--do not volunteer to
+"assist" her in a song that is not a duet. Each voice will interrupt and
+spoil the other. A lady who sings by ear only, cannot accompany one that
+sings by note.
+
+One of the most horrible sounds imaginable is that produced by several
+fine voices all singing different songs. This cats' concert (as
+school-girls call it) results in a shocking and yet ludicrous discord,
+equally frightful and laughable. And yet all the performers are singing
+individually well. Try it.
+
+Raising a window-sash, in cold weather, without first ascertaining if
+the rest of the company are, like yourself, too warm. Leaving the
+parlour door open in winter--a perpetual occurrence at hotels and
+boarding-houses.
+
+Talking so loudly that you can be heard all over the room. Or so low
+that you cannot be heard at all, even by those who are conversing with
+you. This last fault is the worst. To talk with one who has a habit of
+muttering unintelligibly, is like trying to read a letter illegibly
+written.
+
+Using too often the word "madam" or "ma'am," which in fact, is now
+nearly obsolete in familiar conversation. In the old French tragedies
+the lovers addressed their mistresses as "madam." But then the stage
+Alexander wore a powdered wig, and a laced coat, knee-breeches, and a
+long-skirted waistcoat; and Roxana figured in a hoop-petticoat, a
+brocade gown, a flowered apron, and a towering gauze cap. The frequent
+use of "sir" is also out of fashion. "Yes, ma'am," "No, ma'am," "Yes,
+sir," "No, sir," no longer sounds well, except from children to their
+elders. If you have not distinctly heard what another lady has just said
+to you, do not denote it by saying, "Ma'am?" but remark to her, "Excuse
+me, I did not exactly hear you!"
+
+Never, in a public parlour, place yourself in a position where you can
+secretly hear conversation that is not intended for you--for instance in
+a corner behind a pillar. If you hear yourself talked of, it is mean to
+stay and listen. It is a true adage that "Listeners seldom hear any good
+of themselves."
+
+However smart and witty you may be considered, do not exercise your wit
+in rallying and bantering your friends. If you do so, their friendship
+will soon be worn out, or converted into positive enmity. A jest that
+carries a sting with it can never give a pleasant sensation to the
+object. The bite of a musquito is a very little thing, but it leaves
+pain and inflammation behind it, and the more it is rubbed the longer it
+rankles in the blood. No one likes to have their foibles or mishaps
+turned into ridicule--before other persons especially. And few can
+cordially join in a laugh that is raised against themselves.
+
+The slightest jest on the personal defects of those you are conversing
+with, is an enormity of rudeness and vulgarity. It is, in fact, a sneer
+at the Creator that made them so. No human creature is accountable for
+being too small, or too large; for an ill-formed figure, or for
+ill-shaped limbs; for irregular features, or a bad complexion.
+
+Still worse, to rally any person (especially a woman) on her age, or to
+ask indirect questions with a view of discovering what her age really
+is. If we continue to live, we must continue to grow old. We must either
+advance in age, or we must die. Where then is the shame of surviving our
+youth? And when youth departs, beauty goes along with it. At least as
+much beauty as depends on complexion, hair, and teeth. In arriving at
+middle age, (or a little beyond it,) a lady must compound for the loss
+of either face or figure. About that period she generally becomes
+thinner, or fatter. If thin, her features shrink, and her skin shrivels
+and fades; even though she retains a slender and perhaps a girlish form.
+If she grows fat, her skin may continue smooth, and her complexion fine,
+and her neck and arms may be rounder and handsomer than in girlhood; but
+then symmetry of shape will cease--and she must reconcile herself to the
+change as best she can. But a woman with a good mind, a good heart, and
+a good temper, can never at any age grow ugly--for an intelligent and
+pleasant expression is in itself beauty, and the best sort of beauty.
+
+Sad indeed is the condition of women in the decline of life when "No
+lights of age adorn them." When, having neglected in the spring and
+summer to lay up any stores for the winter that is sure to come, they
+find themselves left in the season of desolation with nothing to fall
+back upon--no pleasant recollections of the acquisition of knowledge or
+the performance of good deeds, and nothing to talk about but the idle
+gossip of the day--striving painfully to look younger than they really
+are; still haunting balls and parties, and enduring all the discomforts
+of crowded watering-places, long after all pleasure in such scenes must
+have passed away. But then they must linger in public because they are
+miserable at home, having no resources within themselves, and few
+enduring friends to enliven them with their society.
+
+The woman that knows how to grow old gracefully, will adapt her dress to
+her figure and her age, and wear colours that suit her present
+complexion. If her neck and arms are thin, she will not expose them
+under any circumstances. If her hair is grey, she will not decorate it
+with flowers and flimsy ribbons. If her cheeks are hollow, she will not
+make her face look still longer and thinner by shadowing it with long
+ringlets; and setting her head-dress far back--but she will give it as
+much softness as she can, by a light cap-border tied under her chin. She
+will not squeeze herself out of all human shape by affecting a long
+tight _corsage_; and she will wear no dresses glaring with huge flowers,
+or loaded with gaudy trimmings. She will allude to her age as a thing of
+course; she will speak without hesitation of former times, though the
+recollection proves her to be really old. She will be kind and indulgent
+to the young; and the young will respect and love her, and gladly
+assemble near her chair, and be amused and unconsciously instructed. As
+long as she lives and retains her faculties she will endeavour to
+improve, and to become still a wiser and a better woman; never excusing
+herself by indolently and obstinately averring that "she is too old to
+learn," or that she cannot give up her old-fashioned habits. If she
+finds that those habits are unwarrantable, or that they are annoying to
+her friends, she ought to relinquish them. No one with a mind
+unimpaired, and a heart still fresh, is too old to learn.
+
+This book is addressed chiefly to the young; but we shall be much
+gratified by finding that even old ladies have found in it some
+advantageous suggestions on points that had hitherto escaped their
+notice.
+
+
+        THE END.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Typos, spelling and punctuation errors fixed.
+
+P. 168, "inverted commas"--represented as curved opening and closing
+quotation marks as used throughout the original.
+
+P. 218, "you know," repeated, is faithful to the original. Retained
+since repetition may have been intended by the author to indicate
+over-use of the phrase.
+
+P. 279, "placing this mark /\ below"--the symbol is an upside-down V
+(joined at the top) in the original.
+
+P. 288, "ankles;" original reads "ancles."
+
+P. 289, "Blind-man's bluff;" original reads "buff."
+
+P. 330, Original chapter heading numbered "XXIV." Corrected to "XXV."
+
+Variations changed to more frequent usage: Commonplace to common-place,
+despatch/ to dispatch/, drest to dressed, inclos/ to enclos/, inquiries
+to enquiries, intrust/ to entrust/, steam-boat to steamboat, and
+unladylike to unlady-like.
+
+Entreméts and entrémets corrected to entremets.
+
+Unusual spellings in the original that were retained include:
+cotemporary, extatic, mattrass, negor, receipt (for recipe), segars,
+Shakspeare, sociablist, and visiter.
+
+Also retained because used equally: bed-chambers and bedchambers,
+before-hand and beforehand, foot-stool(s) and footstool(s), ink-stand
+and inkstand (in this case, one each was present in original, plus one
+broken at line's end. I opted to remove the hyphen on rejoining, as it
+was closer in the text to the other non-hyphenated version).
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness
+and Perfect Manners, by Eliza Leslie
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' GUIDE TO TRUE POLITENESS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 37988-8.txt or 37988-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/8/37988/
+
+Produced by Julia Miller, JoAnn Greenwood, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/37988-8.zip b/37988-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f909a95
--- /dev/null
+++ b/37988-8.zip
diff --git a/37988-h.zip b/37988-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8b76de8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/37988-h.zip
diff --git a/37988-h/37988-h.htm b/37988-h/37988-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..23c9e74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/37988-h/37988-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,9260 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ -->
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Ladies Guide to True Politeness
+and Perfect Manners, by Miss Leslie.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+
+body {
+    margin-left: 10%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+    text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+p {
+    margin-top: .75em;
+    text-align: justify;
+    margin-bottom: .75em;
+}
+
+
+hr {
+    width: 33%;
+    margin-top: 2em;
+    margin-bottom: 2em;
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+    clear: both;
+}
+
+table {
+    margin-left: auto;
+    margin-right: auto;
+}
+
+.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+    /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+    position: absolute;
+    left: 92%;
+    font-size: smaller;
+    text-align: right;
+} /* page numbers */
+
+
+/* Vertical Spacing */
+
+.bigskip {
+padding-top: 1.25em;
+}
+
+.blockquot {
+    margin-left: 5%;
+    margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+.signature {
+  margin-right: 30%;
+   text-align: right;}
+
+.p2 {
+    margin-top: .75em;
+    text-align: right;
+    margin-bottom: .75em;
+    margin-right: 45%
+}
+
+.gap {
+padding-left: 2em; padding-right: 1em;}
+
+.center   {text-align: center;}
+
+.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;}
+.tnote {border:dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;
+padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; padding-left: .5em;
+padding-right: .5em;}
+
+/* Footnotes */
+.footnotes        {border: dashed 1px;}
+
+.footnote         {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+
+.footnote .label  {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;}
+
+.fnanchor {
+    vertical-align: super;
+    font-size: .8em;
+    text-decoration:
+    none;
+}
+
+/* Poetry */
+.poem {
+    margin-left:10%;
+    margin-right:10%;
+    text-align: left;
+}
+
+.poem br {display: none;}
+
+.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+
+.poem span.i0 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 0em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i2 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 1em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+.poem span.i4 {
+    display: block;
+    margin-left: 4em;
+    padding-left: 3em;
+    text-indent: -3em;
+}
+
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness and
+Perfect Manners, by Eliza Leslie
+
+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' Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners
+       or, Miss Leslie's Behaviour Book
+
+Author: Eliza Leslie
+
+Release Date: November 12, 2011 [EBook #37988]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' GUIDE TO TRUE POLITENESS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Julia Miller, JoAnn Greenwood, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+<h1>
+THE LADIES' GUIDE
+TO TRUE
+POLITENESS AND PERFECT MANNERS;</h1>
+
+<h3>OR,</h3>
+
+<h1>MISS LESLIE'S BEHAVIOUR BOOK.</h1>
+<div class="bigskip"></div>
+<h2>A GUIDE AND MANUAL FOR LADIES,</h2>
+
+<h3>AS REGARDS THEIR</h3>
+
+<p>CONVERSATION; MANNERS; DRESS; INTRODUCTIONS; ENTRE TO SOCIETY;
+SHOPPING; CONDUCT IN THE STREET; AT PLACES OF AMUSEMENT; IN
+TRAVELING; AT THE TABLE, EITHER AT HOME, IN COMPANY, OR
+AT HOTELS; DEPORTMENT IN GENTLEMEN'S SOCIETY; LIPS;
+COMPLEXION; TEETH; HANDS; THE HAIR; ETC., ETC.</p>
+
+<h3>WITH FULL INSTRUCTIONS AND ADVICE IN</h3>
+
+<p>LETTER WRITING; RECEIVING PRESENTS; INCORRECT WORDS; BORROWING;
+OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN; OFFENCES; CHILDREN; DECORUM IN
+CHURCH; AT EVENING PARTIES; AND SUGGESTIONS IN BAD
+PRACTICES AND HABITS EASILY CONTRACTED, WHICH NO
+YOUNG LADY SHOULD BE GUILTY OF, ETC., ETC.</p>
+<div class="bigskip"></div>
+<h2>BY MISS LESLIE.</h2>
+
+<p>AUTHOR OF "MISS LESLIE'S CELEBRATED NEW COOKERY BOOK,"
+"MISS LESLIE'S NEW RECEIPTS FOR COOKING," ETC.</p>
+<div class="bigskip"></div>
+<h4>Philadelphia:<br />
+T. B. PETERSON &amp; BROTHERS,<br />
+306 CHESTNUT STREET.
+</h4>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="center">
+Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by<br />
+<br />
+T. B. PETERSON &amp; BROTHERS,<br />
+<br />
+the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and for the<br />
+Eastern District of Pennsylvania.</div>
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p>
+<h2>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It is said that soon after the publication of Nicholas Nickleby, not
+fewer than six Yorkshire schoolmasters (or rather six principals of
+Yorkshire institutes) took journeys to London, with the express purpose
+of prosecuting Dickens for libels&mdash;"each one and severally" considering
+himself shown up to the world as Mr. Squeers of Dotheboys Hall.</p>
+
+<p>Now, if Dickens had drawn as graphic a picture of Dothe<i>girls</i> Hall, we
+firmly believe that none of the lady principals of similar institutes
+would have committed themselves by evincing so little tact, and adopting
+such impolitic proceedings. They would wisely have held back from all
+appropriation of the obnoxious character, and passed it over unnoticed;
+as if it could not possibly have the slightest reference to <i>them</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Therefore we wish that those of our fair readers whom certain hints in
+the following pages may awaken to the consciousness of a few habitual
+misbehavements, (of which they were not previously aware,) should pause,
+and reflect, before they allow themselves to "take umbrage too much."
+Let them keep in mind that the purpose of the writer is to amend, and
+not to offend; to improve her young countrywomen, and not to annoy them.
+It is with this view only that she has been induced to "set down in a
+note-book" such lapses from <i>les bienséances</i> as she has remarked during
+a long course of observation, and on a very diversified field.</p>
+
+<p>She trusts that her readers will peruse this book in as friendly a
+spirit as it was written.</p>
+
+<div class="signature">
+<span class="smcap">Eliza Leslie.</span></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+
+
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td><td align="right"><span class="smcap">page</span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">SUGGESTIONS TO VISITERS</a></td><td align="right">2</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">THE VISITED</a></td><td align="right">24</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">TEA VISITERS</a></td><td align="right">30</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">THE ENTRÉE</a></td><td align="right">47</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">INTRODUCTIONS</a></td><td align="right">52</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CONDUCT IN THE STREET</a></td><td align="right">65</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">SHOPPING</a></td><td align="right">71</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">PLACES OF AMUSEMENT</a></td><td align="right">87</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">TRAVELLING</a></td><td align="right">92</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">DEPORTMENT AT A HOTEL</a></td><td align="right">101</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">HOTEL DINNER</a></td><td align="right">120</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">SHIP-BOARD</a></td><td align="right">143</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">LETTERS</a></td><td align="right">150</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">PRESENTS</a></td><td align="right">174</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CONVERSATION</a></td><td align="right">185</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">INCORRECT WORDS</a></td><td align="right">216</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">BORROWING</a></td><td align="right">225</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">OFFENCES</a></td><td align="right">243</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN</a></td><td align="right">250</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CONDUCT TO LITERARY WOMEN</a></td><td align="right">256</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">SUGGESTIONS TO INEXPERIENCED AUTHORS</a></td><td align="right">274</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHILDREN</a></td><td align="right">285</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">DECORUM IN CHURCH</a></td><td align="right">299</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">EVENING PARTIES</a></td><td align="right">304</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">MISCELLANIES</a></td><td align="right">330</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p>
+<h1>MISS LESLIE'S BEHAVIOUR BOOK.</h1>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+
+<h3>SUGGESTIONS TO VISITERS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>An amusing writer of the last century, justly complains of the want of
+definite words to express, distinctly and unmistakably, the different
+degrees of visits, with reference to their length. Whether the stay of
+the guest comprises ten minutes, an hour, an evening, a day, a week, or
+a month, still it goes under the vague and general term of a visit.</p>
+
+<p>We propose, humourously, that if the stay of the guest exceeds a week,
+it should be called "a visitation." If it includes a dining, or a
+tea-drinking, or evening-spending, it may be termed "a visit;" while a
+mere call can be mentioned as "a vis."</p>
+
+<p>The idea is a very convenient one, and we should like to see it carried
+out by general adoption. Meanwhile, we must, for the present, be
+contented with the old uncertain practice of saying only "visit" and
+"visiter." We think it our duty to explain that this chapter is designed
+for the benefit of such inexperienced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> females as may be about to engage
+in what we should like to call "a visitation."</p>
+
+<p>To begin at the beginning:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Do not <i>volunteer</i> a visit to a friend in the country, or in another
+town, unless you have had what is called "a standing invitation," with
+every reason to believe that it was sincerely and cordially given. Many
+invitations are mere "words of course," without meaning or motive,
+designed only to make a show of politeness, and not intended to be taken
+literally, or ever acted upon. Even when convinced that your friend is
+really your friend, that she truly loves you, has invited you in all
+sincerity, and will be happy in your society, still, it is best to
+apprize her, duly, of the exact day and hour when she may expect you;
+always with the proviso that it is convenient to herself to receive you
+at that time, and desiring her to let you know, candidly, if it is not.
+However close your intimacy, an unexpected arrival may possibly produce
+inconvenience to your hostess; particularly if her family is numerous,
+or her bedchambers few. The case is somewhat different, where the house
+is large, and where there is no scarcity of apartments for guests, of
+servants to wait on them, or of money to furnish the means of
+entertaining them liberally. But even then, the time of arrival should
+be previously intimated, and observed as punctually as possible. Such
+are now the facilities of travelling, and the rapidity of transmitting
+intelligence, that there is no excuse for unexpected or ill-timed
+visits; and when unexpected, they are too frequently ill-timed. When
+attempted as "agreeable surprises," they are seldom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> very agreeable to
+the surprised. Also the improvement in manners has rendered these
+incursions old-fashioned and ungenteel. Above all, never volunteer
+visits to families whose circumstances are so narrow that they can ill
+afford the expense of a guest.</p>
+
+<p>Having received an invitation, reply to it immediately; and do not keep
+your friends waiting, day after day, in uncertainty whether you mean to
+accept or decline it; causing them, perhaps, to delay asking other
+visiters till they have ascertained if you are to be expected or not.</p>
+
+<p>Excuse yourself from accepting invitations from persons whom you do not
+like, and whose dispositions, habits, feelings, and opinions are in most
+things the reverse of your own. There can be no pleasure in daily and
+familiar intercourse where there is no congeniality. Such visits never
+end well; and they sometimes produce irreconcilable quarrels, or at
+least a lasting and ill-concealed coolness. Though for years you may
+have always met on decent terms, you may become positive enemies from
+living a short time under the same roof; and there is something
+dishonourable in laying yourself under obligations and receiving
+civilities from persons whom you secretly dislike, and in whose society
+you can have little or no enjoyment.</p>
+
+<p>When you arrive, take occasion to mention how long you intend to stay;
+that your hostess may plan her arrangements accordingly. It is rude and
+inconsiderate to keep her in ignorance of the probable duration of your
+visit. And when the allotted time has expired, do not be persuaded to
+extend it farther<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>, unless you are earnestly, and with undoubted
+sincerity invited to do so. It is much better that your friends should
+part with you reluctantly, than you should give them reason to wish your
+visit shorter. Even if it <i>has</i> been very pleasant on both sides, it may
+not continue so if prolonged too far. Take care of wearing out your
+welcome. Besides, your room may be wanted for another guest.</p>
+
+<p>On your first evening, enquire the hours of the house, that you may
+always be ready to comply with them. Rise early enough to be washed and
+dressed in time for breakfast; but if you are ready too early, remain in
+your own apartment, or walk about the garden, or go to the library till
+the cleaning and arranging of the sitting-room has been completed.
+Meanwhile, you can occupy yourself with a book, if you stay in your own
+room.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as you quit your bed, take off the bedclothes, (each article
+separately,) and spread them widely over the chairs, turning the
+mattrass or bed as far down as it will go. This will give the bedding
+time to air; and in all houses it should be done every morning, the
+whole year round. Before you leave the room, raise the windows as high
+as they will go, (unless it should be raining, or snowing,) that the
+apartment may be well ventilated. Fortunate are those who have been
+accustomed to sleeping always with the sash more or less open, according
+to the weather, or the season. Their health will be much the better for
+the excellent practice of constantly admitting fresh air into their
+sleeping-room. See Dr.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> Franklin's essay on the "Art of Sleeping Well."
+Mr. Combe, who has written copiously on this subject, says it not only
+improves the health, but the complexion; and that ladies who follow this
+practice continue to look young long after those who sleep in close
+rooms have faded and shrivelled. Except in a very unhealthy climate, or
+in the neighbourhood of marshes, no external air can be so unwholesome,
+or productive of such baneful effects on the constitution, as the same
+air breathed over and over again in a close room, and returning
+continually to the lungs, till before morning it becomes unfit to be
+breathed at all. Sleeping with the windows closed in a room newly
+painted has produced fatal diseases. To some lungs the vapour of white
+lead is poisonous. To none is it quite innoxious. Its dangerous
+properties may be neutralized by placing in newly-painted rooms, large
+tubs of water, into each of which has been mixed an ounce of vitriol.
+The tubs must be set near the walls, and the water and vitriol renewed
+every day. The introduction of zinc-paint promises to put that of white
+lead out of use; as zinc is quite as cheap, and not at all pernicious to
+health.</p>
+
+<p>At sleeping hours the air of a bedroom should be perfectly free from all
+scents, either pleasant or otherwise. Many persons cannot sleep with
+flowers in their chamber, or with any sort of perfume. It is best not.</p>
+
+<p>If when on a visit, you find that the chambermaid does not make your bed
+so that you can sleep comfortably, show her how to do it, (privately,)
+but say nothing to your hostess. There is but one way of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> making a bed
+properly; and yet it is surprising how little that way is known or
+remembered. First, shake up the bed high and evenly; turning it over,
+and see that the foot is not higher than the head. If there is a
+mattrass above the bed, turn the mattrass half up, and then half down,
+till you have shaken up the bed beneath. Next spread on the under-sheet,
+laying it well over the bolster to secure it from dragging down and
+getting under the shoulders. However, to most beds now, there is a
+bolster-case. Then tuck in the under-sheet, well, at both sides, to
+prevent its getting loose and disordered in the night. For the same
+reason tuck in the upper-sheet, well, at the foot, leaving the sides
+loose. Tuck in the blankets at bottom, but not at the sides. Lay the
+counterpane smoothly over the whole. Turn it down at the top; and turn
+down the upper-sheet above it, so as to conceal the blankets entirely.</p>
+
+<p>Should the chambermaid neglect your room, or be remiss in filling your
+pitchers, or in furnishing you with clean towels, speak to her on the
+subject when alone. She will hardly, for her own sake, inform her
+mistress that you have had occasion to find fault with her; unless she
+is very insolent or sulky, she will say she is sorry, and will promise
+to do better in future. Complaining to her mistress of these neglects
+will probably give offence to the lady, who may be of that wayward
+(though too common) disposition which will allow no one except herself,
+to find any deficiency in <i>her</i> servants. As mistresses are frequently
+very touchy on these points, your hostess may hint that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> your statement
+is incredible, and that "no one ever complained before." Above all
+things, avoid letting her know that you have found or felt insects in
+your bed; a circumstance that may chance sometimes to happen even in the
+best kept houses. In a warm climate, or in an old house, the utmost care
+and the most vigilant neatness cannot always prevent it. It may be
+caused by the bringing of baggage from boats, or ships, and by servants
+neglecting their own beds; a too common practice with them, unless the
+mistress or her housekeeper compels them to be cleanly, and sees that
+they are so.</p>
+
+<p>If you have proof positive that your bed is not free from these
+intolerable nuisances, confide this fact to the chambermaid only, and
+desire her to attend to it speedily. She will do so the more readily, if
+you promise her a reward in case of complete success. Enjoining her to
+manage this as quietly as possible, and to say nothing about it to any
+one, may spare you a scene with your hostess; who, though you have
+always regarded her as your warm friend, may, notwithstanding, become
+your enemy for life, in consequence of your having presumed to be
+incommoded in <i>her</i> house, where "nobody ever complained before." A
+well-bred, sensible, good-tempered woman will not, of course, take
+offence for such a cause; and will believe that there must have been
+good reason for the complaint, rather than suppose that her guest and
+her friend would mention so delicate a subject even to a servant, unless
+there was positive proof. And she will rightly think it was well to make
+it known, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> have it immediately remedied. But all women who invite
+friends to visit them, are not sensible and good-tempered. Therefore,
+take care.</p>
+
+<p>For similar reasons, should a servant purloin any article belonging to
+you, (and servants, considered quite honest, will sometimes pilfer from
+a visiter when they would not dare to do so from their mistress,) it is
+safest to pass it over, unless the article stolen is of consequence. You
+may find your hostess very unwilling to believe that a servant of <i>hers</i>
+could possibly be dishonest; and much may be said, or evidently
+<i>thought</i>, that will be very painful to you, her guest.</p>
+
+<p>Notwithstanding all that may be said to you about "feeling yourself
+perfectly at home," and "considering your friend's house as your own,"
+be very careful not literally to do so. In fact, it is impossible you
+<i>should</i> with any propriety&mdash;particularly, if it is your first visit.
+You cannot possibly know the real character and disposition of any
+acquaintance, till after you have had some experience in living under
+the same roof. If you find your hostess all that you can desire, and
+that she is making your visit every way agreeable, be very grateful to
+her, and let her understand that you are exceedingly happy at her house;
+but avoid staying too long, or taxing her kindness too highly.</p>
+
+<p>Avoid encroaching unreasonably upon her time. Expect her not to devote
+an undue portion of it to you. She will probably be engaged in the
+superintendence of household affairs, or in the care of her young
+children, for two or three hours after breakfast. So at these hours do
+not intrude upon her,&mdash;but amuse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> yourself with some occupation of your
+own, till you see that it is convenient to the family for you to join
+them in the sitting-room. In summer afternoons, retire for an hour or
+more, soon after dinner, to your own apartment, that you may give your
+friends an opportunity of taking their naps, and that you may do the
+same yourself. You will be brighter in the evening, from indulging in
+this practice; and less likely to feel sleepy, when you ought to be wide
+awake, and ready to assist in entertaining your entertainers. A silent
+visiter, whether silent from dulness or indolence, or a habit of
+taciturnity, is never an agreeable one.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, however pleasant the conversation, have sufficient self-denial to
+break off in seasonable time, so as not to keep the family up by
+continuing in the parlour till a late hour. Some of them may be tired
+and sleepy, though you are not. And between ten and eleven o'clock it is
+well to retire.</p>
+
+<p>If you have shopping to do, and are acquainted with the town, you can be
+under no necessity of imposing on any lady of the family the task of
+accompanying you. To shop <i>for</i> others, or <i>with</i> others, is a most
+irksome fatigue. Even when a stranger in the place, you can easily, by
+enquiring of the family, learn where the best stores are to be found,
+and go to them by yourself.</p>
+
+<p>While you are a guest at the house of a friend, do not pass too much of
+your time in visiting at <i>other</i> houses, unless she is with you. You
+have no right to avail yourself of the conveniences of eating and
+sleeping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> at her mansion, without giving her and her family the largest
+portion of your company.</p>
+
+<p>While a guest yourself, it is taking an unwarrantable liberty to invite
+any of your friends or relatives to come there and spend a day or
+days.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p>Refrain from visiting any person with whom your hostess is at enmity,
+even if that person has been one of your own intimate friends. You will
+in all probability be regarded as "a spy in the camp." There is nothing
+so difficult as to observe a strict neutrality; and on hearing both
+sides, it is scarcely possible not to lean more to the one than to the
+other. The friend whose hospitality you are enjoying will soon begin to
+look coldly upon you, if she finds you seeking the society of her enemy;
+and she may evince that coldness whenever you come home from these
+visits. However unjust her suspicions, it is too probable she may begin
+to think that you are drawn in to make her, and her house, and family,
+subjects of conversation when visiting her adversary; therefore, she
+will cease to feel kindly toward you. If you understand, soon after your
+arrival, that there is no probability of a reconciliation, send at once
+a concise note to the lady with whom your hostess is at variance;
+express your regret at the circumstance, and excuse yourself from
+visiting her while you remain in your present residence. This note
+should be polite, short, and decisive, and so worded as to give no
+offence to either side; for, before
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>
+sending, it is proper for you to show it, while yet unsealed, to the
+friend with whom you are staying. And then let the correspondence be
+carried no further. The lady to whom it is addressed, will, of course,
+return a polite answer; such as you may show to your hostess.</p>
+
+<p>It is to be presumed, she will not be so lost to all delicacy and
+propriety, as to intrude herself into the house of her enemy for the
+purpose of visiting you. But, if she does, it is your place civilly to
+decline seeing her. A slight coolness, a mere offence on a point of
+etiquette, which, if let alone, would die out like a tinder-spark, has
+been fanned, and blown into a flame by the go-betweening of a so-called
+<i>mutual friend</i>. We repeat, while you are a visiter at a house, hold no
+intercourse with any foe of that house. It is unkind and disrespectful
+to the family with whom you are staying, and very unsafe for yourself.</p>
+
+<p>If you know that your friends are hurried with their sewing, or with
+preparations for company, offer to assist them, as far as you can. But
+if you are conscious of an incapacity to do such things well, it is
+better to excuse yourself by candidly saying so, than to attempt them
+and spoil them. At the same time, express your willingness to learn, if
+permitted. And you <i>may</i> learn, while staying at the house of a clever,
+notable friend, many things that you have hitherto had no opportunity of
+acquiring.</p>
+
+<p>When called on by any of your own acquaintances, they will not expect
+you to ask them to stay to tea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> or to dinner. That is the business of
+your hostess&mdash;not yours.</p>
+
+<p>If you are a young lady that has beaux, remember that you have no right
+to encourage the over-frequency of their visits in any house that is not
+your home, or to devote much of your time and attention to flirtation
+with them. Above all, avoid introducing to the family of your
+entertainers, young men whom they are likely in any respect to
+disapprove. No stranger who has the feelings of a gentleman, will make a
+<i>second</i> visit to any house unless he is invited by the head of the
+family, and he will take care that his visits shall not begin too early,
+or continue too late. However delightful he may find the society of his
+lady-fair, he has no right to incommode the family with whom she is
+staying, by prolonging his visits to an unseasonable hour. If he seems
+inclined to do so, there is nothing amiss in his fair-one herself
+hinting to him that it is past ten o'clock. Also, there should be "a
+temperance" even in his morning calls. It is rude in a young lady and
+gentleman to monopolize one of the parlours nearly all the
+forenoon&mdash;even if they are <i>really</i> courting&mdash;still more if they are
+only pretending to court; for instance, sitting close to each other, and
+whispering on subjects that might be discussed aloud before the whole
+house, and talked of across the room.</p>
+
+<p>Young ladies noted for abounding in beaux, are generally rather
+inconvenient visiters; except in very spacious houses, and in gay, idle
+families. They should not take the liberty of inviting the said beaux<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
+to stay to dinner or to tea. Leave that civility to the head of the
+house,&mdash;without whose invitation no <i>gentleman</i> ought to remain.</p>
+
+<p>It is proper for visiters to put out and pay for their own washing,
+ironing, &amp;c. Therefore, carry among your baggage two clothes-bags; one
+to be taken away by the laundress, the other to receive your clothes in
+the interval. You may always hear of a washerwoman, by enquiring of the
+servants of the house.</p>
+
+<p>On no consideration question the servants, or talk to them about the
+family, particularly if they are slaves.</p>
+
+<p>Take with you a small writing-case, containing whatever stationery you
+may be likely to want during your visit; including post-office stamps.
+Thus you will spare yourself, and spare the family, the inconvenience of
+applying to them whenever you have occasion for pen, ink, paper, &amp;c. If
+you have no ink with you, the first time you go out, stop in at a
+stationer's store, and buy a small sixpenny bottle that will stand
+steadily alone, and answer the purpose of an inkstand. Also, take care
+to be well supplied with all sorts of sewing articles. There are young
+ladies who go from home on long visits, quite unprovided with even
+thimbles and scissors; depending all the time on borrowing. Many
+visiters, though very agreeable in great things, are exceedingly
+troublesome in little ones.</p>
+
+<p>Take care not to slop your washing-stand, or to lay a piece of wet soap
+upon it. Spread your wet towels<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> carefully on the towel-rail. See that
+your trunks are not placed so near the wall as to injure the paper or
+paint when the lid is thrown back.</p>
+
+<p>If, when travelling, you are to stop but one night at the house of a
+friend, it is not necessary, for that one night, to have <i>all</i> your
+baggage carried up-stairs, particularly if your trunks are large or
+heavy. Before leaving home, put into your carpet-bag all the things you
+will require for that night; and then no other article of your baggage
+need be taken up to your chamber. They can be left down-stairs, in some
+safe and convenient place, which your hostess will designate. This will
+save much trouble, and preclude all the injury that may otherwise accrue
+to the banisters and staircase-wall, by the corners of trunks knocking
+against them. It is possible to put into a carpet-satchel (that can be
+carried in your own hand) a night-gown and night-cap, (tightly rolled,)
+with hair-brush, combs, tooth-brush, &amp;c. It is surprising how much these
+hand-satchels may be made to contain, when packed closely. No lady or
+gentleman should travel without one. In going from home for one night
+only, a satchel is, frequently, all that is requisite.</p>
+
+<p>On concluding your visit, tell your entertainers that it has been
+pleasant, and express your gratitude for the kindness you have received
+from them, and your hope that they will give you an opportunity of
+returning their civilities. Give a parting gratuity to each of the
+servants&mdash;the sum being according to your means, and to the length of
+your visit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> Give this to each servant <i>with your own hands</i>, going to
+them for the purpose. Do not tempt their integrity, by entrusting (for
+instance) to the chambermaid the fee intended for the cook. She may
+dishonestly keep it to herself, and make the cook believe that you were
+"so mean as to go away without leaving any thing at all for her." Such
+things have happened, as we know. Therefore, give all your fees in
+person.</p>
+
+<p>After you get home, write very soon (within two or three days) to the
+friend at whose house you have been staying, tell her of your journey,
+&amp;c., and allude to your visit as having been very agreeable.</p>
+
+<p>The visit over, be of all things careful not to repeat any thing that
+has come to your knowledge in consequence, and which your entertainers
+would wish to remain unknown. While inmates of their house, you may have
+unavoidably become acquainted with some particulars of their way of
+living not generally known, and which, perhaps, would not raise them in
+public estimation, if disclosed. Having been their guest, and partaken
+of their hospitality, you are bound in honour to keep silent on every
+topic that would injure them in the smallest degree, if repeated.
+Unhappily, there are ladies so lost to shame, as, after making a long
+visit, to retail for the amusement of their cronies, all sorts of
+invidious anecdotes concerning the family at whose house they have been
+staying; adding by way of corroboration&mdash;"I assure you this is all true,
+for I stayed five or six weeks at their house, and had a good chance of
+knowing." More shame then to tell it!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Whatever painful discoveries are made during a visit, should be kept as
+closely secret as if secrecy was enjoined by oath. It is not sufficient
+to refrain from "mentioning names." No clue should be given that could
+possibly enable the hearers even to hazard a guess.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE VISITED.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Having invited a friend to pass a few days or weeks at your house, and
+expecting her at a certain time, send a carriage to meet her at the
+rail-road depôt or the steamboat wharf, and if her host or hostess goes
+in it, so much the better; but do not take the children along, crowding
+the vehicle, for the sake of giving them a ride. Arriving at your house,
+have her baggage taken at once to the apartment prepared for her, and
+when she goes up-stairs, send a servant with her to unstrap her trunks.
+Then let her be left <i>alone</i> to arrange her dress. It is to be supposed
+that before her arrival, the mistress of the house has inspected the
+chamber of her guest, to see that all is right&mdash;that there are <i>two</i>
+pitchers full of fresh water on the stand, and three towels on the rail,
+(two fine and one coarse,) with a china mug for teeth-cleaning, and a
+tumbler to drink from; a slop jar of course, and a foot-bath. We
+conclude that in all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> genteel and well-furnished houses, none of these
+articles are wanting in every bedroom. On the mantel-piece a candle or
+lamp, with a box of lucifer matches beside it&mdash;the candle to be replaced
+by a new one every morning when the chambermaid arranges the room&mdash;or
+the lamp to be trimmed daily; so that the visiter may have a light at
+hand whenever she pleases, without ringing the bell and waiting till a
+servant brings one up.</p>
+
+<p>By-the-bye, when a guest is expected, see previously that the bells and
+locks of her room are in order; and if they are not, have them repaired.</p>
+
+<p>If it is cold weather, let her find a good fire in her room; and the
+shutters open, that she may have sufficient light. Also an extra
+blanket, folded, and laid on the foot of the bed. If summer, let the
+sashes be raised, and the shutters bowed. The room should have an easy
+chair with a heavy foot-cushion before it,&mdash;a low chair also, to sit on
+when shoes and stockings are to be changed, and feet washed. In a spare
+chamber there should be both a mattrass and a feather-bed, that your
+visiters may choose which they will have uppermost. Though you and all
+your own family may like to sleep hard, your guests may find it
+difficult to sleep at all on a mattrass with a paillasse under it. To
+many constitutions hard sleeping is not only intolerable, but pernicious
+to health.</p>
+
+<p>Let the centre-table be furnished with a writing-case well supplied with
+all that is necessary, the inkstand filled, and with <i>good black ink</i>;
+and some sheets of letter-paper and note-paper laid near it. Also,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> some
+books, such as you think your friend will like. Let her find, at least,
+one bureau vacant; <i>all</i> the drawers empty, so that she may be able to
+unpack her muslins, &amp;c., and arrange them at once. The same with the
+wardrobe or commode, so that she may have space to hang up her
+dresses&mdash;the press-closet, likewise, should be for her use while she
+stays.</p>
+
+<p>By giving up the spare bedroom <i>entirely</i> to your visiter you will very
+much oblige her, and preclude the necessity of disturbing or
+interrupting her by coming in to get something out of drawers, closets,
+&amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>Every morning, after the chambermaid has done her duty, (the room of the
+visiter is the first to be put in order,) the hostess should go in to
+see that all is right. This done, no further inspection is necessary for
+that day. There are ladies who, when a friend is staying with them, are
+continually slipping into her chamber when she is out of it, to see if
+the guest has done nothing amiss&mdash;such as moving a chair to suit her own
+convenience, or opening a shutter to let in more light, at the possible
+risk of hastening imperceptibly the fading of the carpet. There are
+families who condemn themselves to a perpetual twilight, by living in
+the dimness of closed shutters, to the great injury of their eyes. And
+this is endured to retard awhile the fading of furniture too showy for
+comfort. We have seen staircase-windows kept always shut and bolted, (so
+that visiters had to grope their way in darkness,) lest the small
+portion of stair-carpet just beneath the window should fade before the
+rest.</p>
+
+<p>It is not pleasant to be a guest in a house where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> you perceive that
+your hostess is continually and fretfully on the watch, lest some almost
+imperceptible injury should accrue to the furniture. We have known
+ladies who were always uneasy when their visiters sat down on a sofa or
+an ottoman, and could not forbear inviting them to change their seats
+and take chairs. We suppose the fear was that the more the
+damask-covered seats were used, the sooner they would wear out. Let no
+visiter be so rash as to sit on a pier-divan with her back near a
+mirror. The danger is imminent&mdash;not only of breaking the glass by
+inadvertently leaning against it, but of certainly fretting its owner,
+with uneasiness, all the time. Children should be positively interdicted
+taking these precarious seats.</p>
+
+<p>It is very kind and considerate to enquire of your guest if there is any
+dish, or article of food that she particularly likes, so that you may
+have it on the table while she stays; and also, if there is any thing
+peculiarly disagreeable to her, so that you may refrain from having it
+during her visit. A well-bred and sensible woman will not encroach upon
+your kindness, or take an undue advantage of it, in this respect or any
+other.</p>
+
+<p>For such deficiencies as may be avoided or remedied, refrain from making
+the foolish apology that you consider her "no stranger"&mdash;and that you
+regard her "just as one of the family." If you invite her at all, it is
+your duty, for your own sake as well as hers, to treat her well in every
+thing. You will lose nothing by doing so.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>If she desires to assist you in sewing, and has brought no work of her
+own, you may avail yourself of her offer, and employ her in
+moderation&mdash;but let it be in moderation only, and when sitting in the
+family circle. When alone in her own room, she, of course, would much
+rather read, write, or occupy herself in some way for her own benefit,
+or amusement. There are ladies who seem to expect that their guests
+should perform as much work as hired seamstresses.</p>
+
+<p>Let the children be strictly forbidden to run into the apartments of
+visiters. Interdict them from going thither, unless sent with a message;
+and then let them be made to understand that they are always to knock at
+the door, and not go in till desired to do so. Also, that they are not
+to play and make a noise in the neighbourhood of her room. And when she
+comes into the parlour, that they are not to jump on her lap, put their
+hands into her pockets, or rummage her work-basket, or rumple and soil
+her dress by clinging to it with their hands. Neither should they be
+permitted to amuse themselves by rattling on the lower keys when she is
+playing on the piano, or interrupt her by teazing her all the time to
+play "for them to dance." All this we have seen, and the mothers have
+never checked it. To permit children to ask visiters for pennies or
+sixpences is mean and contemptible. And, if money <i>is</i> given them by a
+guest, they should be made to return it immediately.</p>
+
+<p>Enquire on the first evening, if your visiter is accustomed to taking
+any refreshment before she retires for the night. If she is, have
+something sent up to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> her room every night, unless your own family are
+in the same habit. Then let sufficient for all be brought into the
+parlour. These little repasts are very pleasant, especially at the close
+of a long winter evening, and after coming home from a place of public
+amusement.</p>
+
+<p>To "welcome the coming&mdash;speed the parting guest"&mdash;is a good maxim. So
+when your visiter is about to leave you, make all smooth and convenient
+for her departure. Let her be called up at an early hour, if she is to
+set out in the morning. Send a servant up to strap and bring down her
+trunks, as soon as she has announced that they are ready; and see that
+an early breakfast is prepared for her, and some of the family up and
+dressed to share it with her. Slip some cakes into her satchel for her
+to eat on the road, in case, by some chance, she should not reach the
+end of her journey at the usual hour. Have a carriage at the door in due
+time, and let some male member of the family accompany her to the
+starting-place and see her off, attending to her baggage and procuring
+her tickets.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+
+<h3>TEA VISITERS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When you have invited a friend to take tea with you, endeavour to render
+her visit as agreeable as you can; and try by all means <i>to make her
+comfortable</i>. See that your lamps are lighted at an early hour,
+particularly those of the entry and stair-case, those parts of the house
+always becoming dark as soon as the sun is down; and to persons coming
+in directly from the light of the open air, they always seem darker than
+they really are. Have the parlours lighted rather earlier than usual,
+that your guest, on her entrance, may be in no danger of running against
+the tables, or stumbling over chairs. In rooms heated by a furnace, or
+by any other invisible fire, it is still more necessary to have the
+lamps lighted early.</p>
+
+<p>If there is a coal-grate, see that the fire is burning clear and
+brightly, that the bottom has been well-raked of cinders and ashes, and
+the hearth swept clean. A dull fire, half-choked with dead cinders, and
+an ashy hearth, give a slovenly and dreary aspect to the most elegantly
+furnished parlour. A sufficiently large grate (if the fire is well made
+up, and plenty of fresh coal put on about six o'clock) will generally
+require no further replenishing during the evening,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> unless the weather
+is unusually cold; and then more fuel should be added at eight or nine
+o'clock, so as to make the room comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>In summer evenings, let the window-sashes be kept up, or the slats of
+the venetian blinds turned open, so that your guest may find the
+atmosphere of the rooms cool and pleasant. There should always be fans
+(feather or palm-leaf) on the centre-tables.</p>
+
+<p>The domestic that attends the door should be instructed to show the
+guest up-stairs, as soon as she arrives; conducting her to an unoccupied
+apartment, where she may take off her bonnet, and arrange her hair, or
+any part of her dress that may require change or improvement. The lady
+should then be left to herself. Nothing is polite that can possibly
+incommode or embarrass&mdash;therefore, it is a mistaken civility for the
+hostess, or some female member of the family to follow the visiter
+up-stairs, and remain with her all the time she is preparing for her
+appearance in the parlour. We have seen an inquisitive little girl
+permitted by her mother to accompany a guest to the dressing-table, and
+watch her all the while she was at the glass; even following her to the
+corner in which she changed her shoes; the child talking, and asking
+questions incessantly. This should not be. Let both mothers and children
+understand that, on all occasions, over-officiousness is not politeness,
+and that nothing troublesome and inconvenient is ever agreeable.</p>
+
+<p>The toilet-table should be always furnished with a clean hair-brush, and
+a nice comb. We recommend those hair-brushes that have a mirror on the
+back, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> as to afford the lady a glimpse of the back of her head and
+neck. Better still, as an appendage to a dressing-table, is a regular
+hand-mirror, of sufficient size to allow a really <i>satisfactory</i> view.
+These hand-mirrors are very convenient, to be used in conjunction with
+the large dressing-glass. Their cost is but trifling. The
+toilet-pincushion should always have pins in it. A small work-box
+properly furnished with needles, scissors, thimble, and cotton-spools,
+ought also to find a place on the dressing-table, in case the visiter
+may have occasion to repair any accident that may have happened to her
+dress.</p>
+
+<p>For want of proper attention to such things, in an ill-ordered, though
+perhaps a very showy establishment, we have known an <i>expected</i> visiter
+ushered first into a dark entry, then shown into a dark parlour with an
+ashy hearth, and the fire nearly out: then, after groping her way to a
+seat, obliged to wait till a small hand-lamp could be procured to light
+her dimly up a steep, sharp-turning stair-case; and then, by the same
+lamp, finding on the neglected dressing-table a broken comb, an old
+brush, and an empty pincushion,&mdash;or (quite as probably) nothing at
+all&mdash;not to mention two or three children coming to watch and stare at
+her. On returning to the parlour, the visiter would probably find the
+fire just then making up, and the lamp still unlighted, because it had
+first to be trimmed. Meanwhile, the guest commences her visit with an
+uncomfortable feeling of self-reproach for coming too early; all things
+denoting that she was not expected so soon. In such houses everybody
+comes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> too early. However late, there will be nothing in readiness.</p>
+
+<p>The hostess should be in the parlour, prepared to receive her visiter,
+and to give her at once a seat in the corner of a sofa, or in a
+fauteuil, or large comfortable chair; if a rocking-chair, a footstool is
+an indispensable appendage. By-the-bye, the dizzy and ungraceful
+practice of rocking in a rocking-chair is now discontinued by all
+genteel people, except when entirely alone. A lady should never be seen
+to rock in a chair, and the rocking of a gentleman looks silly. Rocking
+is only fit for a nurse putting a baby to sleep. When children get into
+a large rocking-chair, they usually rock it over backward, and fall out.
+These chairs are now seldom seen in a parlour. Handsome, stuffed easy
+chairs, that are moved on castors, are substituted&mdash;and of these, half a
+dozen of various forms are not considered too many.</p>
+
+<p>Give your visiter a fan to cool herself, if the room is warm, or to
+shade her eyes from the glare of the fire or the light&mdash;for the latter
+purpose, a broad hand-screen is generally used, but a palm-leaf fan will
+do for both. In buying these fans, choose those whose handle is the firm
+natural stem, left remaining on the leaf. They are far better than those
+with handles of bamboo, which in a short time become loose and rickety.</p>
+
+<p>There are many persons who, professing never to use a fan themselves,
+seem to think that nobody can by any chance require one; and therefore
+they selfishly keep nothing of the sort in their rooms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>If, in consequence of dining very late, you are in the custom of also
+taking tea at a late hour&mdash;or making but slight preparations for that
+repast&mdash;waive that custom when you expect a friend whom you know to be
+in the practice of dining early, and who, perhaps, has walked far enough
+to feel fatigued, and to acquire an appetite. For her accommodation,
+order the tea earlier than usual, and let it be what is called "a <i>good</i>
+tea." If there is ample room at table, do not have the tea carried
+round,&mdash;particularly if you have but one servant to hand the whole. It
+is tedious, inconvenient, and unsatisfactory. There is no comfortable
+way of eating bread and butter, toast, or buttered cakes, except when
+seated at table. When handed round, there is always a risk of their
+greasing the dresses of the ladies&mdash;the greasing of fingers is
+inevitable&mdash;though that is of less consequence, now that the absurd
+practice of eating in gloves is wisely abolished among genteel people.</p>
+
+<p>Still, if the company is too numerous for all to be commodiously seated
+at the usual family table, and if the table cannot be enlarged&mdash;it is
+better to have tea carried round by <i>two</i> servants, even if an extra one
+is hired for the occasion, than to crowd your guests uncomfortably. One
+person too many will cause inconvenience to all the rest, however the
+hostess may try to pass it off, by assuring the company that there is
+quite room enough, and that she has seen a still larger number seated
+round that very table. Everybody knows that "what's impossible a'n't
+true."</p>
+
+<p>In setting a tea-table, see that there is not only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> enough, but <i>more
+than enough</i> of cups and saucers, plates, knives and forks, spoons,
+napkins, &amp;c. Let the <i>extra</i> articles be placed near the lady of the
+house,&mdash;to be distributed, if wanted. We have known families who had the
+means and the inclination to be hospitable, that never sat down to table
+without several spare <i>covers</i>, as the French call them, ready for
+accidental guests.</p>
+
+<p>Unless you have domestics on whom you can implicitly rely, it is well to
+go into the eating-room about ten minutes before the announcement of
+tea, and to see that all is right; that the tea is strong and properly
+made, and the pot (which should be scalded twice) is not filled nearly
+to overflowing with a superabundance of water. The practice of drowning
+away all the flavour of the tea is strangely prevalent with servants;
+who are also very apt to neglect scalding the tea-pot; and who do not,
+or will not, remember that the kettle should be boiling hard at the
+moment the water is poured on the tea&mdash;otherwise the infusion will be
+insipid and tasteless, no matter how liberally the Chinese plant has
+been afforded.</p>
+
+<p>If your cook is not <i>habitually</i> a good coffee-maker, the coffee will
+most probably be sent in cold, thick, and weak&mdash;for want of some
+previous supervision. Let it have that supervision.</p>
+
+<p>We have heard of tea-tables (even in splendid establishments) being left
+entirely to the <i>mis</i>management of incompetent or negligent servants; so
+that when the company sat down, there was found a deficiency in some of
+the indispensable appendages;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> such as spoons, and even forks, and
+napkins&mdash;butter-knives forgotten, and (worse than all) <i>cooking-butter</i>
+served in mistake for the better sort. By-the-bye, the use of
+cooking-butter should be abolished in all genteel-houses. If the butter
+is not good enough to eat on the surface of cold bread or on warm cakes,
+it is not good enough to eat in the inside of sweet cakes, or in pastry,
+or in any thing else; and is totally unfit to be mixed with vegetables
+or sauces. The use of butter is to make things taste well; if it makes
+them taste ill, let it be entirely omitted: for bad butter is not only
+unpalatable, but unwholesome. There are houses in which the money wasted
+on one useless bauble for the drawing-room would furnish the family with
+excellent fresh butter for a whole year&mdash;enough for all purposes.</p>
+
+<p>We know, <i>by experience</i>, that it is possible to make very fine butter
+even in the State of New York, and to have it fresh in winter as in
+summer, though not so rich and yellow. Let the cows be well fed, well
+sheltered, and <i>kept fat</i> and clean&mdash;the dairy utensils always in
+perfect order&mdash;churning done twice or thrice every week&mdash;all the milk
+worked well out&mdash;and the butter will surely be good.</p>
+
+<p>If cakes for tea have been made at home, and they have turned out
+failures, (as is often the case with home-made cakes where there is not
+much practice in baking them,) do not have them brought to table at all,
+but send to a shop and get others. It is rude to set before your guests
+what you know is unfit for them to eat. And heavy, tough, ill-baked
+things are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> discreditable to any house where the means of obtaining
+better are practicable.</p>
+
+<p>In sending for cakes to a confectioner, do not <i>a second time</i> allow him
+to put you off with stale ones. This many confectioners are in the
+practice of doing, if it is passed over without notice. Stale cakes
+should at once be sent back, (with a proper reproof,) and fresh ones
+required. Let the confectioner with whom you deal understand that he is
+<i>not</i> to palm off his stale cakes upon <i>you</i>, and that you will not keep
+them when sent. You will then find that fresh ones will generally be
+forthcoming. It is always well to send for cakes in the early part of
+the afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Have a pitcher of ice-water on the side-table, and a tumbler beside
+every plate&mdash;as most persons like to finish with a glass of water.</p>
+
+<p>Do not, on sitting down to table, inform your guest that "you make no
+stranger of her," or that you fear she will not be able to "make out" at
+your plain table. These apologies are ungenteel and foolish. If your
+circumstances will not allow you <i>on any consideration</i> to make a little
+improvement in your usual family-fare, your friend is, in all
+probability, aware of the fact, and will not wish or expect you to incur
+any inconvenient expense on her account. But if you are known to possess
+the means of living well, you ought to do so; and to consider a good,
+though not an extravagantly luxurious table as a necessary part of your
+expenditure. There is a vast difference between laudable economy and
+mean economy. The latter (whether it shows itself in bad food, bad
+fires, bad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> lights, bad servants) is never excused in persons who dress
+extravagantly, and live surrounded by costly furniture, and who are
+universally known to be wealthy, and fully able to afford comfort, as
+well as show.</p>
+
+<p>If you invite a friend to tea, in whose own family there is no
+gentlemen, or no man-servant, it is your duty previously to ascertain
+that you can provide her on that evening with an escort home; and in
+giving the invitation, you should tell her so, that she may know on what
+to depend. If you keep a carriage, it will be most kind to send her home
+in it.</p>
+
+<p>Even if it is your rule to have the entry-lamp extinguished at a certain
+hour, let your servants understand that this rule must be dispensed
+with, as long as an evening-visiter remains in the house. Also, do not
+have the linen covers put on the furniture, and the house audibly shut
+up for the night, before she has gone. To do this is rude, because she
+cannot but receive it as a hint that she has staid too long.</p>
+
+<p>If your visiter is obliged to go home with no other escort than your
+servant-man, apprize him, in time, that this duty will be expected of
+him; desiring that he takes care to be at hand before ten o'clock.</p>
+
+<p>A lady that has no escort whose services she can command, ought not to
+make unexpected tea-visits. In many cases these visits produce more
+inconvenience than pleasure. If you wish to "take tea sociably" with a
+friend, inform her previously of your intention. She will then let you
+know if she is disengaged on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> that evening, or if it is in any way
+inconvenient to receive you; and she will herself appoint another time.
+Generally, it is best not to volunteer a tea-visit, but to wait till
+invited.</p>
+
+<p>If you are engaged to take tea with an intimate friend, who assures you
+that you will see none but the family; and you afterward receive an
+invitation to join a party to a place of public amusement, which you
+have long been desirous of visiting, you may retract your first
+engagement, provided you send an apology in due time, telling the exact
+truth, and telling it in polite terms. Your intimate friend will then
+take no offence, considering it perfectly natural that you should prefer
+the concert, the play, or the exhibition, to a quiet evening passed at
+her house with no other guests. But take care to let her know as early
+as possible.<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> And be careful not to disappoint her again in a similar
+manner.</p>
+
+<p>If you are accustomed to taking coffee in the evening, and have an
+insuperable dislike to tea, it is best not to make an <i>unexpected</i>
+visit&mdash;or at least, if you go at all, go early&mdash;so as to allow ample
+time for the making of coffee&mdash;a much slower process than that of tea;
+particularly as there may chance to be no roasted coffee in the house.
+Much inconvenience has been caused by the "sociable visiting" of
+determined coffee-drinkers. It is very easy to make green or black tea
+at a short notice&mdash;but not coffee.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p>
+<p>In inviting "a few friends," which means a small select company,
+endeavour to assort them suitably, so as not to bring together people
+who have no community of tastes, feelings, and ideas. If you mix the
+dull and stupid with the bright and animated, the cold and formal with
+the frank and lively, the professedly serious with the gay and cheerful,
+the light with the heavy, and above all, those who pride themselves on
+high birth (high birth in America?) with those who boast of "belonging
+to the people," none of these "few friends" will enjoy each other's
+society; the evening will <i>not</i> go off agreeably, and you and the other
+members of your family will have the worst of it. The pleasantest people
+in the room will naturally congregate together, and the task of
+entertaining the unentertainable will devolve on yourself and your own
+people.</p>
+
+<p>Still, it is difficult always to assort your company to your
+satisfaction and theirs. A very charming lady may have very dull or very
+silly sisters. An intelligent and refined daughter may be unfortunate in
+a coarse, ignorant mother, or a prosing, tiresome, purse-proud father.
+Some of the most delighted persons you may wish to invite, may be
+encumbered with relations totally incapable of adding any thing to the
+pleasure of the evening;&mdash;for instance, the numerous automatons, whom we
+must charitably believe are speechless merely from diffidence, and of
+whom we are told, that "if we only knew them," we should discover them,
+on intimate acquaintance, to be "quite intelligent people." Perhaps so.
+But we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> cannot help thinking that when a head is full of ideas, some of
+them will involuntarily ooze out and be manifest. Diffidence is very
+becoming to young people, and to those who are new to the world. But it
+is hardly credible that it should produce a painful taciturnity in
+persons who have passed from youth into maturity; and who have enjoyed
+the advantages of education and of living in good society. Still those
+who, as the French say, have "a great talent for silence," may redeem
+themselves from suspicion of stupidity, by listening attentively and
+understandingly. A good talker is never displeased with a good hearer.</p>
+
+<p>We have often met with young ladies from whom it was scarcely possible
+for one of their own sex to extract more than a few monosyllables at
+long intervals; those intervals being passed in dozing, rather than in
+hearing. And yet, if any thing in the shape of a beau presented itself,
+the tongues of these "dumb belles" were immediately loosened, and the
+wells of their minds commenced running as glibly as possible. To be
+sure, the talk amounted to nothing definite; but still they <i>did</i> talk,
+and often became quite lively in a few minutes. Great is the power of
+beaux!</p>
+
+<p>To return to the tea-table.&mdash;Unless you are positively sure, when you
+have a visiter, that she drinks the same tea that is used in your own
+family, you should have both black and green on the table. Either sort
+is often extremely disagreeable to persons who take the other. Drinkers
+of green tea, for instance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> have generally an unconquerable aversion to
+black, as tasting like hay, herbs, &amp;c., and they find in it no
+refreshing or exhilarating property. In some, it produces nausea. Few,
+on the other hand, dislike the taste of <i>good</i> green tea, but they
+assign as a reason for not drinking it, that it is supposed from its
+enlivening qualities to affect the nerves. Judge Bushrod Washington, who
+always drank green, and avoided black, said that, "he took tea as a
+beverage, not as a medicine." And there are a vast number of sensible
+people in the same category. If your guest is a votary of green tea,
+have it made for her, in time for the essence of the leaves to be well
+drawn forth. It is no compliment to give her green tea that is weak and
+washy. And do not, at your own table, be so rude as to lecture her upon
+the superior wholesomeness of black tea. For more than a century, green
+tea was universally drunk in every house, and there was then less talk
+of nervous diseases than during the reign of Souchong,&mdash;which,
+by-the-bye, is nearly exploded in the best European society.</p>
+
+<p>In pouring out, do not fill the cups to the brim. Always send the cream
+and sugar round, that each person may use those articles according to
+their own taste. Also, send round a small pot of hot water, that those
+who like their tea weak may conveniently dilute it. If tea is handed, a
+servant should, at the last, carry round a water-pitcher and glasses.</p>
+
+<p>Whether at dinner or tea, if yourself and family are in the habit of
+eating fast, (which, by the way, is a very bad and unwholesome one, and
+justly cited<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> against us by our English cousins,) and you see that your
+visiter takes her food deliberately, endeavour (for that time at least)
+to check the rapidity of your own mastication, so as not to finish
+before she has done, and thus compel her to hurry herself uncomfortably,
+or be left alone while every one round her is sitting unoccupied and
+impatient. Or rather, let the family eat a little more than usual, or
+seem to do so, out of politeness to their guest.</p>
+
+<p>When refreshments are brought in after tea, let them be placed on the
+centre-table, and handed round from thence by the gentlemen to the
+ladies. If there are only four or five persons present, it may be more
+convenient for all to sit round the table&mdash;which should not be cleared
+till after all the visiters have gone, that the things may again be
+offered before the departure of the guests.</p>
+
+<p>If a friend makes an afternoon call, and you wish her to stay and take
+tea, invite her to do so at once, as soon as she has sat down; and do
+not wait till she has risen to depart. If she consents to stay, there
+will then be ample time to make any additional preparation for tea that
+may be expedient; and she will also know, at once, that you have no
+engagement for the evening, and that she is not intruding on your time,
+or preventing you from going out. If you are intimate friends, and your
+guest is disposed to have a long chat, she will do well to ask you, at
+the beginning, if you are disengaged, or design going out that
+afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>We knew a very sensible and agreeable lady in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> Philadelphia, who liking
+better to have company at home than to go out herself, made a rule of
+inviting every day, half a dozen friends (not more) to take tea with
+her&mdash;just as many as could sit round the table, "with ample room and
+verge enough." These friends she assorted judiciously. And therefore she
+never asked a whole family at once; those who were left out
+understanding that they would be invited another time. For instance, she
+would send a note for the father and mother only&mdash;to meet another father
+and mother or two. A few weeks after, a billet would come for the young
+people only. But if there were <i>several</i> young people, some were
+delayed&mdash;thus&mdash;"I wish James and Eliza to take tea with me this evening,
+to meet so-and-so. Another time I promise myself the pleasure of
+Edward's company, and Mary's."</p>
+
+<p>This distribution of invitations never gave offence.</p>
+
+<p>Those who were honoured with the acquaintance of such a lady were not
+likely to be displeased at so sensible a mode of receiving them. These
+little tea-drinkings were always pleasant, and often delightful. The
+hostess was well qualified to make them so.</p>
+
+<p>Though the refreshments were of the best kind, and in sufficient
+abundance, and the fires, lights, &amp;c. all as they should be, there was
+no ostentatious display, and the ladies were dressed no more than if
+they were spending a quiet evening at home&mdash;party-finery being
+interdicted&mdash;also, such needle-work as required constant attention to
+every stitch.</p>
+
+<p>If you have a friend who is in somewhat precarious health, and who is
+afraid of being out in the night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> air, or who lives in a distant part of
+the town, invite her to dinner, or to pass the day, rather than to tea.
+She will then be able to get home before twilight.</p>
+
+<p>There is in Boston a very fashionable and very distinguished lady, who,
+since her return from Europe, has relinquished the custom of giving
+large parties; and now entertains her friends by, almost every day,
+having two or three to dine with her,&mdash;by invitation. These dinners are
+charming. The hour is according to the season&mdash;earlier in winter, later
+in summer&mdash;the guests departing before dark, and the lady always having
+the evening to herself.</p>
+
+<p>We know a gentleman in Philadelphia, who every Monday has a
+family-dinner at his house, for all his children and grandchildren, who
+there meet and enjoy themselves before the eyes of the father and
+mother&mdash;a friend or two being also invited. Nothing can be more pleasant
+than to see them all there together, none staying away,&mdash;for parents,
+children, sons-in-law, daughters-in-law, sisters-in-law,
+brothers-in-law, are all at peace, and all meeting in
+friendship&mdash;unhappily, a rare case, where there is a large connection,
+and considerable wealth.</p>
+
+<p>We wish that social intercourse was more frequently conducted on the
+plan of the few examples above cited.</p>
+
+<p>Should chance-visiters come in before the family have gone to tea, let
+them at once be invited to partake of that repast; which they will of
+course decline, if they have had tea already. In a well-provided house,
+there can be no difficulty in adding something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> to the family tea-table,
+which, in genteel life, should never be discreditably parsimonious.</p>
+
+<p>It is a very mean practice, for the members of the family to slip out of
+the parlour, one by one at a time, and steal away into the eating-room,
+to avoid inviting their visiter to accompany them. The truth is always
+suspected by these separate exits, and the length of absence from the
+parlour&mdash;and is frequently betrayed by the rattle of china, and the
+pervading fumes of hot cakes. How much better to meet the inconvenience
+(and it cannot be a great one) by decently conducting your accidental
+guest to the table, unless he says he has already taken tea, and will
+amuse himself with a book while the family are at theirs.</p>
+
+<p>Casual evening visiters should avoid staying too late. Ten o'clock, in
+our country, is the usual time to depart, or at least to begin
+departing. If the visit is unduly prolonged, there may be evident signs
+of irrepressible drowsiness in the heads of the family, which, when
+perceived, will annoy the guest, who must then feel that he has stayed
+too long&mdash;and without being able to excuse himself with any approach to
+the elegance of William Spencer's apology to the charming Lady Anne
+Hamilton.</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i0">Too late I stay'd&mdash;forgive the crime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unheeded flew the hours,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For noiseless falls the foot of Time<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That only treads on flowers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! who with clear account remarks<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The ebbing of the glass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When all its sands are diamond sparks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That dazzle as they pass!</span></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span></p>
+
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+
+<h3>THE ENTRÉE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>A lady is said to have the <i>entrée</i> of her friend's room, when she is
+allowed or assumes the privilege of entering it familiarly at all times,
+and without any previous intimation&mdash;a privilege too often abused. In
+many cases, the visited person has never really granted this privilege,
+(and after growing wise by experience, she rarely will;) but the
+visiter, assuming that she herself must, under all circumstances, be
+welcome, carries her sociability so far as to become troublesome and
+inconvenient. Consequently, their friendship begins to abate in its
+warmth. No one likes to be annoyed, or be intruded on at all hours. So
+the visited begins to think of the adage, "My room is my castle," and
+the visiter finds that seeing a friend under all circumstances somewhat
+diminishes respect, and that "familiarity brings contempt."</p>
+
+<p>There are few occasions on which it is well, on entering a house, to run
+directly to the chamber of your friend, and to bolt into her room
+without knocking; or the very instant <i>after</i> knocking, before she has
+time to desire you to enter, or to make the slightest arrangement for
+your reception. You may find her washing, or dressing, or in bed, or
+even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> engaged in repairing clothes,&mdash;or the room may be in great
+disorder, or the chambermaid in the act of cleaning it. No one likes
+unseasonable interruptions, even from a very dear friend. That friend
+would be dearer still, if she had sufficient tact and consideration to
+refrain from causing these annoyances. Also, friendships are not always
+lasting&mdash;particularly those that become inordinately violent, and where
+both parties, by their excessive intimacy, put themselves too much into
+each other's power. Very mortifying disclosures are sometimes made after
+a quarrel, between two Hermias and Helenas, when recrimination begins to
+come, and mutual enmity takes the place of mutual kindness.</p>
+
+<p>A familiar visit will always begin more pleasantly, if the visiter
+enquires of the servant at the door if the lady she wishes to see is at
+home, and then goes into the parlour, and stays there till she has sent
+her name, and ascertained that she can be received up-stairs.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Then
+(and not till then) let her go to her friend's room, and still remember
+to knock at the door before she enters. Let her have patience till her
+friend bids her come in, or has time to rise, cross the room, and come
+to open the door, if it is fastened.</p>
+
+<p>It is extremely rude, on being admitted to a private apartment, to look
+curiously about, as if taking an inventory of all that is to be seen. We
+have known ladies whose eyes were all the time gazing round, and
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
+even slily peering under tables, sofas, &amp;c.; turning their heads to look
+after every person who chanced to be moving about the room, and giving
+particular attention to whatever seemed to be in disorder or out of
+place. Nay, we have known one who prided herself upon the gentility of
+her forefathers and foremothers, rise from her seat when her hostess
+opened a bureau-drawer, or a closet-door, and cross the room, to stand
+by and inspect the contents of said bureau or closet, while open&mdash;a
+practice very common with ill-taught <i>children</i>, but which certainly
+should be rebuked out of them long before they are grown up.</p>
+
+<p>Make no remark upon the work in which you find your friend engaged. If
+she lays it aside, desire her not to quit it because of your presence;
+but propound no questions concerning it. Do not look over her books, and
+ask to borrow them. In short, meddle with nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Some ladies never enter the room of an intimate friend without
+immediately exclaiming against its heat or its cold&mdash;seldom the latter,
+but very frequently the former, as it is rather fashionable to be always
+too warm; perhaps because it makes them seem younger. If they really are
+uncomfortably warm on a very cold day, we think it can only be from the
+glow produced by the exercise of walking. This glow must naturally
+subside in a few minutes, if they would sit down and wait with a little
+patience, or else avail themselves of the fan which ought to be at hand
+in every room. We have known ladies of this warm temperament, who had
+sufficient consideration always to carry a pocket-fan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> in winter as well
+as summer. This is far better than to break out instantly with a
+complaint of the heat of the room, or to run and throw up a window-sash,
+or fling open the door, at the risk of giving cold to others. No
+intimacy can authorize these freedoms in a cold day, unless permission
+has first been asked, and sincerely granted.</p>
+
+<p>If you are perfectly certain that you have really the entrée of your
+friend's room, and even if she has the same of yours, you have no right
+ever to extend that privilege to any other person who may chance to be
+with you when you go to see her. It is taking an unjustifiable liberty
+to intrude a stranger upon the privacy of her chamber. If another lady
+is with you, waive your privilege of entrée for that time, take your
+companion into the parlour, and send up the names of both, and do not
+say, "Oh! come up, come up&mdash;I am on no ceremony with her, and I am sure
+she will not <i>mind you</i>." And how can you be sure? Perhaps in reality,
+she <i>will</i> mind her very much, and be greatly discomfited, though too
+polite to appear so.</p>
+
+<p>There are certain unoccupied females so over-friendly as to take the
+entrée of the whole house. These are, generally, ultra-neighbourly
+neighbours, who run in at all hours of the day and evening; ferret out
+the ladies of the family, wherever they may be&mdash;up-stairs or down; watch
+all their proceedings when engaged, like good housewives, in inspecting
+the attics, the store-rooms, the cellars, or the kitchens. Never for a
+moment do they seem to suppose that their hourly visits may perhaps be
+inconvenient or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> unseasonable; or too selfish to abate their frequency,
+even when they suspect them to be so, these inveterate sociablists make
+their incursions at all avenues. If they find that the front-door is
+kept locked, they glide down the area-steps, and get in through the
+basement. Or else, they discover some back-entrance, by which they can
+slip in at "the postern-gate"&mdash;that is, alley-wise:&mdash;sociablists are not
+proud. At first, the sociablist will say, on making her third or fourth
+appearance for the day, "Who comes to see you oftener than I?" But after
+awhile even this faint shadow of an apology is omitted&mdash;or changed to
+"Nobody minds <i>me</i>." She is quite domesticated in your house&mdash;an
+absolute <i>habitué</i>. She sees all, hears all, knows all your concerns. Of
+course she does. Her talk <i>to</i> you is chiefly gossip, and therefore her
+talk <i>about</i> you is chiefly the same. She is <i>au-fait</i> of every thing
+concerning your table, for after she has had her dinner at her own home,
+she comes bolting into your dining-room and "sits by," and sees you eat
+yours. It is well if she does not begin with "a look in" upon you before
+breakfast. She finds out everybody that comes to your house; knows all
+your plans for going to this place or that; is well acquainted with
+every article that you wear; is present at the visits of all your
+friends, and hears all their conversation. Her own is usually "an
+infinite deal of nothing."</p>
+
+<p>A sociablist is commonly what is called good-natured, or else you would
+not endure her at all&mdash;and you believe, for a time, that she really has
+an extraordinary liking for you. After awhile, you are undeceived.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> A
+coolness ensues, if not a quarrel, and you are glad to find that she
+carries her sociability to another market, and that a new friend is now
+suffering all that you have experienced. To avoid the danger of being
+overwhelmed by the sociability of an idle neighbour, discourage the
+first indications of undue intimacy, by making your own visits rather
+few, and rather far between. A young lady of good sense, and of proper
+self-respect, will never be too lavish of her society; and if she has
+pleasant neighbours, will visit them always in moderation. And their
+friendship will last the longer.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+
+<h3>INTRODUCTIONS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Fashion, in its various unmeaning freaks, sometimes decrees that it is
+not "stylish to introduce strangers." But this is a whim that, whenever
+attempted, has neither become general nor lasted long. It has seldom
+been adopted by persons of good sense and good manners&mdash;and very rarely
+by that fortunate class whose elevated standing in society enables them
+to act as they please, in throwing aside the fetters of absurd
+conventionalities, and who can afford to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Non-introduction has been found, in many instances, to produce both
+inconvenience and vexation. Persons who had long known each other by
+reputation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> and who would have rejoiced in an opportunity of becoming
+personally acquainted, have met in society, without being aware of it
+till afterward; and the opportunity has never recurred. One of our most
+distinguished literary Americans was seated at a dinner-party next to an
+European lady equally distinguished in literature; but as there were no
+introductions, he was not aware of her presence till the party was over
+and the lady gone. The lady knew who the gentleman was, and would gladly
+have conversed with him; but as he did not speak, because he was not
+introduced, she had not courage to commence&mdash;though she might have done
+so with perfect propriety, considering who <i>he</i> was, and who <i>she</i> was.</p>
+
+<p>Still worse&mdash;from not knowing who are present, you may inadvertently
+fall upon a subject of conversation that, for private reasons, may be
+extremely irksome or painful to some of the company; for instance, in
+discussing a public character. Severe or mortifying remarks may
+unintentionally be made on the near relative, or on the intimate
+companion, of one whom you would on no account desire to offend. And in
+this way you may make enemies, where, under other circumstances, you
+would have made friends. In such cases, it is the duty of the hostess,
+or of any mutual acquaintance, immediately to introduce both parties,
+and thus prevent any further animadversions that, may be <i>mal-a-propos</i>,
+or in any way annoying. It is safest, when among strangers, to refrain
+from bitter animadversions on anybody.</p>
+
+<p>In introducing a gentleman to a lady, address <i>her</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> first, as for
+instance&mdash;"Miss Smith, permit me to make you acquainted with Mr.
+Jones"&mdash;or, "Mrs. Farley, allow me to present Mr. Wilson"&mdash;that is, you
+must introduce the gentleman to the lady, rather than the lady to the
+gentleman. Also, if one lady is married and the other single, present
+the single lady to the matron, as&mdash;"Miss Thomson, let me introduce you
+to Mrs. Williams."<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p>
+
+<p>In introducing a foreigner, it is proper to present him as "Mr. Howard
+from England"&mdash;"Mr. Dupont from France"&mdash;"Mr. Wenzel from Germany." If
+you know of what European city he is a resident, it is better still, to
+say that he is "from London,"&mdash;"Paris,"&mdash;"Hamburg." Likewise, in
+introducing one of your own countrymen very recently returned from a
+distant part of the world, make him known as "Mr. Davis, just from
+China"&mdash;"Mr. Edwards, lately from Spain"&mdash;"Mr. Gordon, recently from
+South America." These slight specifications are easily made; and they
+afford, at once, an opening for conversation between the two strangers,
+as it will be perfectly natural to ask "the late arrived" something
+about the country he has last visited, or at least about his voyage.</p>
+
+<p>When presenting a member of Congress, mention the State to which he
+belongs, as, "Mr. Hunter of Virginia"&mdash;"Mr. Chase of Ohio," &amp;c.
+Recollect that both senators and gentlemen of the house of
+representatives
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
+are members of Congress&mdash;Congress including the two legislative bodies.
+In introducing a governor, designate the state he governs&mdash;as, "Governor
+Penington of New Jersey." For the chief magistrate of the republic, say
+simply&mdash;"The President."</p>
+
+<p>In introducing an officer, tell always to which service he belongs&mdash;as
+"Captain Turner of the Navy"&mdash;"Captain Anderson of the Army."</p>
+
+<p>We regret the custom of continuing to give military titles to militia
+officers. Foreigners are justly diverted at finding <i>soi-disant</i>
+generals and colonels among men who fill very subordinate stations in
+civil life&mdash;men that, however respectable in their characters, may be
+deficient in the appearance, manners, or education that should belong to
+a regular officer. This foolish practice can only be done away by the
+militia officers themselves (those that really are gentlemen&mdash;and there
+are many) magnanimously declining to be called generals, colonels, &amp;c.
+except on parade occasions; and when actually engaged in militia duty.
+Let them omit these titles on their cards, and request that no letters
+be directed to them with such superscriptions; and that in introductions
+or in conversation they may be only addressed as plain Mr. It is still
+more absurd to continue these military titles long after they have
+ceased to hold the office,&mdash;and above all, to persist in them when
+travelling in foreign countries, tacitly permitting it to be supposed
+that they own commissions in the regular service.</p>
+
+<p>English tourists (even when they know better)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> make this practice a
+handle for pretending, in their books, that the officers of the American
+army are so badly paid, or so eager to make additional money, that they
+exercise all sorts of trades, and engage in the humblest occupations to
+help themselves along. They tell of seeing a captain stitching coats, a
+major making shoes, a colonel driving a stage, and a general selling
+butter in market&mdash;sneeringly representing them as regular officers of
+the United States army. Is it true that we republicans have such a
+hankering after titles? If so, "reform it altogether." And let one of
+the first steps be to omit the "Esq." in directing a letter to an
+American citizen, for whom the title can have no meaning. In England it
+signifies the possessor of an estate in the country, including the
+office of justice of peace. In America, it means a magistrate only; who
+may live in a city, and own not an inch of ground anywhere. But why
+should all manner of men, of all trades, and professions, expect to see
+an "Esq." after their name, when with reference to <i>them</i>, it can have
+no rational application?</p>
+
+<p>An introduction should always be given in a distinct and audible voice,
+so that the name may be clearly understood. The purpose is defeated, if
+it is murmured over in so low a tone as to be unintelligible. And yet
+how often is this the case; for what reason it is difficult to divine.
+It is usual for the introducee to repeat the name of the introduced.
+This will prove that it has really been heard. For instance, if Mrs.
+Smith presents Miss Brook to Miss Miles, Miss Miles immediately says,
+"Miss Brook"&mdash;or better still&mdash;"Miss<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> Brook, I am glad to meet you," or
+something similar. Miss Miles then begins a talk.</p>
+
+<p>If you introduce yourself to a lady whom you wish to know, but who does
+not know <i>you</i>, address her by her name, express your desire to make her
+acquaintance, and then give her your card. Replying that it affords her
+pleasure to meet you, she will give you her hand, and commence a
+conversation, so as to put you quite at ease after your
+self-introduction.</p>
+
+<p>In introducing members of your own family, always mention, audibly, the
+name. It is not sufficient to say "my father," or "my mother"&mdash;"my son,"
+"my daughter"&mdash;"my brother," or "my sister." There may be more than one
+surname in the same family. But say, "my father, Mr. Warton,"&mdash;"my
+daughter, Miss Wood"&mdash;or "my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Wood"&mdash;"my sister,
+Miss Mary Ramsay"&mdash;"my brother, Mr. James Ramsay," &amp;c. It is best in all
+these things to be explicit. The eldest daughter is usually introduced
+by her surname only&mdash;as "Miss Bradford"&mdash;her younger sisters, as "Miss
+Maria Bradford"&mdash;"Miss Harriet Bradford."</p>
+
+<p>In presenting a clergyman, put the word "Reverend" before his
+name&mdash;unless he is a bishop, and then, of course, the word "Bishop"
+suffices. The head of a college-department introduce as "Professor"&mdash;and
+it is to them only that the title properly belongs, though arrogated by
+all sorts of public exhibitors, mesmerists and jugglers included.</p>
+
+<p>Where the company is large, the ladies of the house should have tact
+enough to avoid introducing and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> placing together persons who cannot
+possibly assimilate, or take pleasure in each other's society. The dull,
+and the silly, will be far happier with their compeers. To a woman of
+talent, and a good conversationist, it is a cruelty to put her
+unnecessarily in contact with stupid, or unmeaning people. She is wasted
+and thrown away upon such as are neither amusing nor amusable. Neither
+is it well to bring together a gay, lively woman of the world, and a
+solemn, serious, repulsive dame, who is a contemner of the world and all
+its enjoyments. There can be no conversation that is mutually agreeable,
+between a real lady of true delicacy and refinement, and a so-called
+lady whose behaviour and talk are coarse and vulgar,&mdash;or between a woman
+of highly cultivated mind, and one who is grossly ignorant of every
+thing connected with books, and who boasts of that ignorance. We have
+heard a lady of fashion say, "Thank God, I never read." The answer might
+well have been, "You need not tell us that."</p>
+
+<p>In inviting but a small company, it is indispensable to the pleasure of
+all, that you ask none who are strikingly unsuitable to the rest&mdash;or
+whose presence will throw a damp on conversation. Especially avoid
+bringing into the same room, persons who are at notorious enmity with
+each other, even if, unhappily, they should be members of the same
+family. Those who are known as adversaries should be invited on
+different evenings.</p>
+
+<p>Avoid giving invitations to bores. They will come without.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The word "bore" has an unpleasant and an inelegant sound. Still, we have
+not, as yet, found any substitute that so well expresses the
+meaning,&mdash;which, we opine, is a dull, tiresome man, or "a weariful
+woman," either inveterately silent, or inordinately talkative, but never
+saying any thing worth hearing, or worth remembering&mdash;people whom you
+receive unwillingly, and whom you take leave of with joy; and who, not
+having perception enough to know that their visits are always unwelcome,
+are the most sociable visiters imaginable, and the longest stayers.</p>
+
+<p>In a conversation at Abbotsford, there chanced to be something said in
+reference to bores&mdash;those beings in whom "man delights not, nor woman
+neither." Sir Walter Scott asserted, humourously, that bores were always
+"good respectable people." "Otherwise," said he "there could be no
+bores. For if they were also scoundrels or brutes, we would keep no
+measures with them, but at once kick them out the house, and shut the
+door in their faces."</p>
+
+<p>When you wish an introduction to a stranger lady, apply to your hostess,
+or to some of the family, or to one of the guests that is acquainted
+with that lady: you will then be led up and presented to her. Do not
+expect the stranger to be brought to you; it is your place to go to her.</p>
+
+<p>If you are requested by a female friend to introduce her to a
+distinguished gentleman, a public character, be not so ungenerous as to
+go <i>immediately</i> and conspicuously to inform him of the fact. But spare
+her delicacy, by deferring the ceremony for a while; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> then take an
+opportunity of saying to him, "I shall be glad to make you acquainted
+with my friend Miss Morris. Come with me, and I will introduce you."
+When the introduction has thus taken place, you may with propriety leave
+them together to entertain each other for awhile; particularly if both
+parties are capable of doing so. And then, after a quarter of an hour's
+conversation, let the lady release the gentleman from further
+attendance, by bowing to him, and turning to some other acquaintance who
+may not be far off. She can leave <i>him</i> much more easily than he can
+leave <i>her</i>, and it will be better to do so in proper time, than to
+detain him too long. It is generally in his power to return to her
+before the close of the evening, and if he is pleased with her society,
+he will probably make an opportunity of doing so.</p>
+
+<p>If he is what is called a lion, consideration for the rest of the
+company should admonish her not to monopolize him. But lions usually
+know how to get away adroitly. By-the-bye, she must not talk to him of
+his professional celebrity, or ask him at once for his autograph.</p>
+
+<p>We saw no less a person than Charles Dickens compelled, at a large
+party, to devote the whole evening to writing autographs for a multitude
+of young ladies&mdash;many of whom, not satisfied with obtaining one of his
+signatures for themselves, desired half a dozen others for "absent
+friends." All conversation ceased with the first requisition for an
+autograph. He had no chance of saying any thing. We were a little
+ashamed of our fair townswomen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Should it fall to your lot to introduce any of the English nobility,
+take care (before hand) to inform yourself exactly what their titles
+really are. Americans are liable to make sad blunders in these things.
+It may be well to know that a duke is the highest title of British
+nobility, and that his wife is a duchess. His eldest son is a marquis as
+long as his father lives, on whose demise the marquis becomes a duke.
+The wife of a marquis is a marchioness. There are a few marquises whose
+fathers were not dukes. The younger sons are termed Lord Henry, Lord
+Charles, Lord John, &amp;c. The daughters Lady Caroline, Lady Augusta, Lady
+Julia. The family name is generally quite different from the title.
+Thus, the name of the Duke of Richmond is Lenox&mdash;that of the Duke of
+Rutland, Manners. The family name of the Duke of Norfolk (who ranks
+first of the English nobility) is Howard. The present Duke of
+Northumberland's name is Algernon Percy. Arthur Wellesley was that of
+the great Duke of Wellington. His eldest son was Marquis of Douro, and
+his second son Lord Charles Wellesley. The children of a marquis are
+called Lord Frederick, or Lord Henry, and Lady Louisa, or Lady Harriet.</p>
+
+<p>The next title is viscount, as Viscount Palmerston. The next is earl,
+whose wife is a countess, and the children may be Lord Georges and Lady
+Marys.</p>
+
+<p>After the viscounts come the barons, whose children are denominated the
+Honourable Miss, or Mr. John Singleton Copley, (whose father was Copley,
+the celebrated American painter,) is now Baron<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> Lyndhurst. His eldest
+daughter is the Hon. Miss Copley. In common parlance, barons are always
+termed lords. Some few have two titles&mdash;as Lord Say and Sele&mdash;Lord
+Brougham and Vaux. After William the Fourth had suddenly dissolved the
+parliament that held out so long against passing the reform bill, and
+the king, appointing a new cabinet, had placed Lord Brougham at the head
+of the ministry, a ridiculous comic song came out at one of the minor
+theatres, implying that now his majesty has swept out the whole
+parliament, "he takes up his broom and valks," (Brougham and Vaux.)</p>
+
+<p>When the widow of a nobleman marries a man who has no title, she always
+retains hers. Thus when the widow of the Earl of Mansfield married
+Colonel Greville, (a nephew of the Earl of Warwick,)&mdash;on their
+door-plate the names were&mdash;"The Countess Dowager of Mansfield, and the
+Hon. Colonel Greville,"&mdash;a rather long inscription. A nobleman's
+daughter marrying a commoner, retains her original title of Lady, but
+takes his surname&mdash;thus, Lady Charlotte Campbell, whose father was Duke
+of Argyle, became, on her marriage with Dr. Bury, a clergyman, Lady
+Charlotte Bury. It will be understood that if a nobleman's daughter
+marries a nobleman, her title merges in his&mdash;but if she marries a
+commoner, she retains what title she had originally&mdash;her husband, of
+course, obtaining no rank by his marriage.</p>
+
+<p>The title of a baronet is Sir&mdash;as Sir Francis Burdett, Sir Walter Scott.
+His children are Mr. and Miss, without any "Hon." affixed to their
+names.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> Baronets are a grade below barons, but the title is hereditary,
+descending to the eldest son or next male heir. In directing to a
+baronet, put "Bart." after his name. A knight is also called Sir, as Sir
+Thomas Lawrence, Sir Edwin Landseer, &amp;c.; but his title being only for
+life, dies with him.<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> It is always conferred by the sovereign touching
+his shoulder with a sword, and saying, for instance, "Rise up, Sir
+Francis Chantry." In writing to a knight, put "Knt." The wives of both
+baronets and knights are called Lady. The wife of Sir John Franklin (who
+was knighted) is Lady Franklin&mdash;not Lady <i>Jane</i> Franklin, as has been
+erroneously supposed. She could not be Lady Jane unless her father was a
+nobleman.</p>
+
+<p>A nobleman always signs his title only, without designating his exact
+rank&mdash;the Duke of Athol signing himself "Athol"&mdash;the Duke of Bedford,
+"Bedford"&mdash;the Marquis of Granby, "Granby"&mdash;the Earl of Chesterfield,
+"Chesterfield," &amp;c. The wives of peers give their Christian name with
+their title&mdash;as Isabella Buccleuch&mdash;Margaret Northampton&mdash;Elizabeth
+Derby, &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>The English bishops are addressed in letters as the Lord Bishop of
+Rochester, the Lord Bishop of Bath and Wells. The Archbishop of
+Canterbury, who is Primate of England,&mdash;(Head of the English Church,) is
+called His Grace, or Your Grace. The bishops are all (by virtue of their
+office) members of the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
+House of Peers or Lords. They sign their Christian name with the title
+of their bishopric, as John Durham&mdash;William Oxford.</p>
+
+<p>All full noblemen have an hereditary seat in the House of Peers, which
+they take on attaining the age of twenty-one, and it continues while
+they live. Their younger sons, the Lord Johns and Lord Fredericks, can
+only have a seat in the House of Commons, and to that they must be
+elected, like the other members. Baronets, not being peers, must also be
+elected as commons.</p>
+
+<p>Americans going to England would do well to look over a book of the
+British Peerage, so as to save themselves from making blunders, which
+are much ridiculed in a country where little allowance is made for
+republican habits and for republican ignorance of what appertains to
+monarchical institutions.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> It would not be amiss even to know that a
+full coat of arms, including shield, supporters, crest, and scroll with
+a motto, belongs only to the chief of a noble family; and that the
+younger branches are entitled only to the crest, which is the head of
+the same animal that stands erect on each side of the shield as if to
+support it, such as stags, foxes, bears, vultures, &amp;c. A baronet has a
+shield only, with a bloody or wounded hand over the top.</p>
+
+<p>Our countrymen abroad sometimes excite ill-concealed mirth, by the
+lavish use they make of titles when they chance to find themselves among
+the nobility.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
+They should learn that none but servants or people of the lower classes
+make constant use of the terms "my lord," and "my lady"&mdash;"your
+lordship," or "your ladyship"&mdash;"your grace," &amp;c., in conversing with
+persons of rank. Formerly it was the custom, but it is long since
+obsolete, except, as we have said, from domestics or dependants. Address
+them simply as Lord Derby, or Lord Dunmore&mdash;Lady Wilton, Lady
+Mornington, &amp;c.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+
+<h3>CONDUCT IN THE STREET.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When three ladies are walking together, it is better for one to keep a
+little in advance of the other two, than for all three to persist in
+maintaining one unbroken line. They cannot all join in conversation
+without talking across each other&mdash;a thing that, in-doors or
+out-of-doors, is awkward, inconvenient, ungenteel, and should always be
+avoided. Also, three ladies walking abreast occupy too much of the
+pavement, and therefore incommode the other passengers. Three young
+<i>men</i> sometimes lounge along the pavement, arm in arm. Three young
+<i>gentlemen</i> never do so.</p>
+
+<p>If you meet a lady with whom you have become but slightly acquainted,
+and had merely a little conversation, (for instance, at a party or a
+morning visit,) and who moves in a circle somewhat higher or more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
+fashionable than your own, it is safest to wait till she recognises you.
+Let her not see in you a disposition to obtrude yourself on her notice.</p>
+
+<p>It is not expected that all intimacies formed at watering-places shall
+continue after the parties have returned to their homes. A mutual bow
+when meeting in the street is sufficient. But there is no interchanging
+of visits, unless both ladies have, before parting, testified a desire
+to continue the acquaintance. In this case, the lady who is eldest, or
+palpably highest in station, makes the first call. It is not customary
+for a young lady to make the first visit to a married lady.</p>
+
+<p>When meeting them in the street, always speak first to your milliner,
+mantua-maker, seamstress, or to any one you have been in the practice of
+employing. To pass without notice any servant that you know, is rude and
+unfeeling, as they will attribute it to pride, not presuming to speak to
+you themselves, unless in reply. There are persons who having accepted,
+when in the country, much kindness from the country-people, are ashamed
+to recognise them when they come to town, on account of their rustic or
+unfashionable dress. This is a very vulgar, contemptible, and foolish
+pride; and is always seen through, and despised. There is no danger of
+plain country-people being mistaken for vulgar city-people. In our
+country, there is no reason for keeping aloof from any who are
+respectable in character and appearance. Those to be avoided are such as
+wear tawdry finery, paint their faces, and leer out of the corners of
+their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> eyes, <i>looking</i> disreputably, even if they are not disreputable
+in reality.</p>
+
+<p>When a gentleman meets a lady with whom his acquaintance is very slight,
+(perhaps nothing more than a few words of talk at a party,) he allows
+her the option of continuing the acquaintance or not, at her pleasure;
+therefore, he waits till she recognises him, and till she evinces it by
+a bow,&mdash;he looking at her to give the opportunity. Thus, if she has no
+objection to numbering him among her acquaintances, she denotes it by
+bowing first. American ladies never curtsey in the street. If she has
+any reason to disapprove of his character or habits, she is perfectly
+justifiable in "cutting" him, as it is termed. Let her bow very coldly
+the first time, and after that, not at all.</p>
+
+<p>Young ladies should yield the wall to old ladies. Gentlemen do so to all
+ladies.</p>
+
+<p>In some cities it is the custom for all gentlemen to give their arm to
+all ladies, when walking with them. In others, a gentleman's arm is
+neither offered nor taken, unless in the evening, on slippery pavements,
+or when the streets are very muddy. A lady only takes the arm of her
+husband, her affianced lover, or of her male relatives. In the country
+the custom is different. There, a gentleman, when walking with a lady,
+always gives her his arm; and is much offended when, on offering his
+arm, the lady refuses to take it. Still, if it is contrary to the custom
+of her place, she can explain it to him delicately, and he will at once
+see the propriety of her declining.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When a lady is walking between two gentlemen, she should divide her
+conversation as equally as practicable, or address most of it to him who
+is most of a stranger to her. He, with whom she is least on ceremony,
+will excuse her.</p>
+
+<p>A gentleman on escorting a lady to her own home, must not leave her till
+he has rung the bell, and waited till the servant has come and opened
+the door, and till she is actually in the house. Men who know no better,
+think it sufficient to walk with her to the foot of the steps and there
+take their departure, leaving her to get in as she can. This we have
+seen&mdash;but not often, and the offenders were not Americans.</p>
+
+<p>If you stop a few minutes in the street to talk to an acquaintance, draw
+to one side of the pavement near the wall, so as not to impede the
+passengers&mdash;or you may turn and walk with her as far as the next corner.
+And never stop to talk in the middle of a crossing. To speak loudly in
+the street is exceedingly ungenteel, and foolish, as what you say will
+be heard by all who pass by. To call across the way to an acquaintance,
+is very unlady-like. It is best to hasten over, and speak to her, if you
+have any thing of importance to say.</p>
+
+<p>When a stranger offers to assist you across a brimming gutter, or over a
+puddle, or a glair of slippery ice, do not hesitate, or decline, as if
+you thought he was taking an unwarrantable liberty. He means nothing but
+civility. So accept it frankly, and thank him for it.</p>
+
+<p>When you see persons slip down on the ice, do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> laugh at them. There
+is no fun in being hurt, or in being mortified by a fall in the public
+street; and we know not how a <i>lady</i> can see any thing diverting in so
+painful a circumstance. It is more feminine, on witnessing such a sight,
+to utter an involuntary scream than a shout of laughter. And still more
+so, to stop and ascertain if the person that fell has been hurt.</p>
+
+<p>If, on stopping an omnibus, you find that a dozen people are already
+seated in it, draw back, and refuse to add to the number; giving no heed
+to the assertion of the driver, that "there is plenty of room." The
+<i>passengers</i> will not say so, and you have no right to crowd them all,
+even if you are willing to be crowded yourself&mdash;a thing that is
+extremely uncomfortable, and very injurious to your dress, which may, in
+consequence, be so squeezed and rumpled as never to look well again.
+None of the omnibuses are large enough to accommodate even twelve grown
+people <i>comfortably</i>; and that number is the utmost the law permits. A
+child occupies more than half the space of a grown person, yet children
+are brought into omnibuses <i>ad libitum</i>. Ten grown persons are as many
+as can be really well seated in an omnibus&mdash;twelve are too many; and a
+<i>lady</i> will always regret making the thirteenth&mdash;and her want of
+consideration in doing so will cause her to be regarded with
+unfavourable eyes by the other passengers. It is better for her to go
+into a shop, and wait for the next omnibus, or even to walk home, unless
+it is actually raining.</p>
+
+<p>Have your sixpence ready in your fingers a few minutes before you are to
+get out; and you may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> request any gentleman near you to hand it up to
+the driver. So many accidents have happened from the driver setting off
+before a lady was entirely out of the vehicle and safely landed in the
+street, that it is well to desire the gentleman not to hand up the
+sixpence till after you are fairly clear of the steps.</p>
+
+<p>When expecting to ride in an omnibus, take care to have sufficient small
+change in your purse&mdash;that is, sixpences. We have seen, when a
+quarter-dollar has been handed up, and the driver was handing down the
+change, that it has fallen, and been scattered among the straw. There
+was no stopping to search for it, and therefore the ride cost
+twenty-five cents instead of six: the driver, of course, finding the
+change himself, as soon as he got rid of all his passengers.</p>
+
+<p>It is most imprudent to ride in an omnibus with much money in your
+purse. Pickpockets of genteel appearance are too frequently among the
+passengers. We know a gentleman who in this way lost a pocket-book
+containing eighty dollars; and various ladies have had their purses
+taken from them, by well-dressed passengers. If you are obliged to have
+money of any consequence about you, keep your hand all the time in that
+pocket.</p>
+
+<p>If the driver allows a drunken man to come into an omnibus, the ladies
+will find it best to get out; at least those whose seats are near his.
+It is, however, the duty of the gentlemen to insist on such fellows
+being refused admittance where there are ladies.</p>
+
+<p>No lady should venture to ride in an omnibus after dark, unless she is
+escorted by a gentleman whom she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> knows. She had better walk home, even
+under the protection of a servant. If alone in an omnibus at night, she
+is liable to meet with improper company, and perhaps be insulted.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+
+<h3>SHOPPING.</h3>
+
+
+<p>When you go out shopping, it is well to take with you some <i>written</i>
+cards, inscribed with your residence as well as your name. For this
+purpose to use engraved visiting-cards is an unnecessary expense. That
+there may be no mistake, let your shopping-cards contain not only your
+street and number, but the side of the way, and between what streets
+your house is situated. This minuteness is particularly useful in
+Philadelphia, where the plan and aspect of the streets is so similar.
+Much inconvenience, disappointment, and delay have resulted from parcels
+being left at wrong places. If you are staying at a hotel, give also the
+number of your chamber, otherwise the package may be carried in mistake
+to the apartment of some other lady; the servants always knowing the
+number of the rooms, but not always remembering the names of the
+occupants; usually speaking of the ladies and gentlemen as No. 25, No.
+42, &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>There is another advantage in having cards with you when you go out
+shopping: if you should chance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> to forget your reticule, or
+handkerchief, and leave it on the counter, the shopkeeper will know
+exactly by the card where to send it, or for whom to keep it till called
+for.</p>
+
+<p>If you intend to purchase none but small articles, take but little money
+in your purse, so that if you chance to lose it, the loss may not be
+great.<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> When you buy articles of any consequence, they will always be
+sent home at your request&mdash;and (unless you keep a standing account at
+that store) desire the bill to be sent along; and sent at an hour when
+you will certainly be at hand to pay it. Be careful to take receipts for
+the payment; and keep the receipts on a file or wire. We have known
+instances when, from the clerk or storekeeper neglecting or delaying to
+cross out an account as soon as paid, the same bill was inadvertently
+sent twice over; and then by having the receipt to show, the necessity
+of <i>paying it twice over</i> was obviated. Look carefully at every item of
+the bill, and see that all is correct. Sometimes (though these
+oversights are of rare occurrence) the same article may accidentally be
+set down twice in the same bill. But this is easily rectified by taking
+the bill to the storekeeper, and showing it to him.</p>
+
+<p>In subscribing for a magazine or newspaper, and paying in advance, (as
+you always should,) be especially careful of the receipts given to you
+at paying. So many persons are in the habit of allowing these
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
+accounts to run on for years, that if you neglect preserving your
+receipts, and cannot produce them afterward, you may be unintentionally
+classed among the delinquents, and have no means of proving
+satisfactorily that you have really paid.</p>
+
+<p>Many ladies keep a day-book, in which they set down, regularly, all the
+money they have expended on that day; adding up the whole every week. An
+excellent plan, and of great importance to every one who is mistress of
+a family.</p>
+
+<p>In making purchases for other persons, have bills made out; and send the
+bills (receipted) with the articles purchased, as an evidence of the
+exact price of the things, and that they were paid for punctually. The
+friends that have commissioned you to buy them, should <i>immediately</i>
+repay you. Much inconvenience may be felt by a lady whose command of
+money is small, when a friend living in a distant place, and probably in
+opulent circumstances, neglects or postpones the payment of these sums.
+She should, at the beginning, send money amply sufficient to make these
+purchases. It is enough that you take the trouble of going to the
+stores, selecting the desired articles, and having them packed and sent
+off. She has no right to put you to the slightest pecuniary
+inconvenience. There have been instances, where articles thus bought for
+a lady in a far-off place, have not been paid for by that lady till
+after the lapse of many months. For such remissness there is no excuse.
+To go shopping for a friend is rarely a pleasant business. Besides its
+encroaching on your time, there is always a danger of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> the purchases
+proving unsatisfactory, or not suiting the taste of her for whom they
+are intended. Also, circumstances may prevent the articles reaching her
+as soon as expected. Whenever practicable, it is best to send all such
+packages by the Transportation Line&mdash;that charge to be paid by the
+owner, on delivery.</p>
+
+<p>It is not well to trouble a gentleman with the care of a parcel, unless
+it is quite small, and he has to pass the door of the house at which it
+is to be delivered; or unless his residence is in the immediate
+neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>When visiting the shops, if you do not intend to buy at that time, but
+are merely looking round to see varieties of articles before you
+determine on what to purchase, candidly say so to the persons standing
+at the counter. They will (particularly if they know you) be perfectly
+willing to show you such things as you desire to see, in the hope that
+you may return to their store and buy of them afterward. At the same
+time, avoid giving unnecessary trouble; and do not, from mere curiosity,
+desire such things to be brought to you as you have no intention of
+buying at all.</p>
+
+<p>The practice that is called cheapening, or beating down the price, is
+now nearly obsolete. Most tradesmen have a fixed price for every thing,
+and will not abate.</p>
+
+<p>It is but rarely that you will meet with articles of really good quality
+on very low terms, unless near the close of the season, when the
+storekeepers, anxious to get rid of their old stock, generally put down
+the prices of the goods that are left on hand; knowing that by the
+return of next season, these will be superseded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> by things of a newer
+fashion. Economical ladies, who are not resolutely determined on wearing
+none but articles of the very latest fashion, may thus supply themselves
+with excellent silks, lawns, &amp;c. in August and September, at prices far
+below what they would have given in May or June. And then they can lay
+them by till next summer. In the same way they can purchase merinoes,
+mousselines de laine, &amp;c. in January, February, and March, much lower
+than in November and December. It is best always to buy rather too much
+than too little; and to have a piece left, rather than to get a scanty
+pattern, such as will barely hold out, leaving nothing for repairs or
+alterations. There is much advantage in getting an extra yard and a
+half, or two yards, and keeping it back for new sleeves. Unless you are
+small and slender, it is not well to buy a dress embroidered with a
+border pattern. They are always scanty in width, and have that look when
+made up. The skirts are never quite wide enough. A tall woman requires
+as full a skirt as a fat one; else her height will make her look lanky
+and narrow.</p>
+
+<p>When bespeaking an article to be made purposely for you, ascertain from
+the maker what will be the cost, and then request him to write down the
+terms on a card, or a slip of paper, or on a leaf of your tablet. If he
+says he cannot tell how much it will be, or that he knows not what price
+to fix on it, or that he cannot decide till after it is finished, it
+will be safest and wisest for you to decline engaging it, till he <i>has</i>
+calculated the amount, or something very near it. Persist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> in this
+condition being a <i>sine qua non</i>. It is his place to know every thing
+connected with his business, and to be able to judge of his outlay, and
+his profits. If you do not insist on a satisfactory answer when making
+the bargain, you may in the end find yourself greatly overcharged, (as
+we know by experience;) the price in the bill, after the article is
+made, and sent home, proving infinitely higher than you would have been
+willing to give if previously aware of it. In dealing with foreigners
+whose language is not yours, take especial care that there is a correct
+understanding on both sides.</p>
+
+<p>When on a visit to a city with which you are not familiar, enquire where
+the best shops are to be found, and make memorandums of them in your
+tablets. This will spare your friends the trouble of accompanying you on
+your shopping expeditions. And if you have a small pocket-map of the
+town, there will be no danger of losing your way. Except to ladies whose
+chief delight is in seeing things connected with dress, to go shopping
+with a stranger is usually very tiresome. Also, the stranger will feel
+less constraint by going alone; and more at liberty to be guided by her
+own taste in selecting, and to consult her pecuniary convenience in
+regard to the price. It is only when you feel that you have reason for
+distrusting your own judgment, as to the quality and gentility of the
+articles, that it is well to be accompanied by a person of more
+experience. And then you will, most probably, be unwilling to fatigue
+her by going to as many shops as you would like to visit. In most cases,
+it is best<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> to go shopping without any companion, except, perhaps, a
+member of your immediate family. Gentlemen consider it a very irksome
+task to go on shopping expeditions, and their ill-concealed impatience
+becomes equally irksome to you.</p>
+
+<p>If you have given the salesman or saleswoman unusual trouble in showing
+you articles which you find not to suit, make some compensation, by at
+least one or two small purchases before leaving the store; for instance,
+linen to lay by as a body-lining for a future dress, gloves, mits, a
+neck-ribbon, cotton spools, pins, needles, tape, black sewing-silk,
+&amp;c.,&mdash;things that will always come into use.</p>
+
+<p>Remember that in all American stores, the rule of "first come, first
+served," is rigidly observed. Therefore, testify no impatience if a
+servant-girl, making a sixpenny purchase, is served before you&mdash;which
+she certainly will be, if her entrance has preceded yours.</p>
+
+<p>There are still some ladies who think that one of the great arts of
+shopping, is to disparage the articles shown to them, to exclaim at the
+price, and to assert that at other places they can get exactly such
+things infinitely lower. When shopping, (as well as under all other
+circumstances,) it is best to adhere to the truth. If you really like
+the article, why not gratify the salesman by saying so. If you know that
+the price is in conformity to the usual rate, you need not attempt to
+get it lower, for you will seldom succeed&mdash;unless, indeed, on that day
+the tradesman is particularly anxious to sell, having a sum of money to
+make up, and being somewhat at a loss. Perhaps then, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> may abate
+something; but if he does not himself propose the abatement, and if he
+is largely in business, and sure of plenty of custom, there will be
+little use in your urging it.</p>
+
+<p>If you are a stranger in the city, (Philadelphia for instance,) do not
+always be exclaiming at the prices, and declaring that you can buy the
+same articles much lower and much handsomer in New York, Boston, or
+Baltimore. For certain reasons, prices are different in different
+places. If an article is shown to you in Philadelphia as "something
+quite new," refrain from saying that it has been out of fashion these
+two years in New York. This may injure its sale with bystanders,
+chancing to hear you. You need only say "that it is very pretty, but you
+do not want it now."</p>
+
+<p>It is strange, but no less strange than true, that though the distance
+between New York and Philadelphia is reduced to less than half a day's
+travel, it takes a year or more, for the New York fashions to get to
+Philadelphia, and many of them never arrive at all. There are certain
+dress-makers and milliners in the latter city, who, if you show them any
+thing quite fresh from New York, will habitually reply, "Oh! we made
+that, here in Philadelphia, a year or two ago." You need not believe
+them. Our American ladies derive all their ideas of costume from France;
+and as New York rejoices in the most extensive and the most speedy
+intercourse with that land of taste and elegance, the French fashions
+always get there first. The wonder is that so long a time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> elapses
+before they prevail in the other cities. We must say, however, that
+whatever is fantastic and extreme, is generally modified and softened
+down in Philadelphia. In provincial towns, and in remote new
+settlements, we often see a disposition to carry to the utmost a fashion
+already too showy or gaudy.</p>
+
+<p>When you see on another lady a new article of dress that you admire, it
+is <i>not</i> ill-manners, (but rather the contrary,) to tell her so. But
+unless you really desire to get one exactly like it for yourself, and
+are sincerely asking for information, it is considered very rude to
+enquire where she bought it, and what was the cost. And it is peculiarly
+vulgar to preface the enquiry by the foolish words&mdash;"If it is a fair
+question." The very doubt proves that you know the question to be a very
+unfair one. And so it is. We have never known that expression used
+except to introduce something rude and improper. Any lady who is asked
+an impertinent question, would be perfectly justifiable in saying,
+"Excuse me from answering"&mdash;and then immediately changing the
+conversation. Yet there are ladies who are always catechising others
+about their dress. You are not bound to give explicit answers to these,
+or any other questions concerning your personal affairs. Much mischief
+accrues in society, from some ladies being too inquisitive, and others
+too communicative.</p>
+
+<p>It is really a great fatigue, both of body and mind, to go shopping with
+a very close economist, particularly if you know that she can well
+afford a sufficiently liberal expenditure. The length of time she will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
+ponder over every thing before she can "make up her mind;" the
+ever-besetting fear that she may possibly have to give a few cents more
+in one store than in another; her long deliberation as to whether a
+smaller than the usual quantity may not be "made to do;" her
+predilection for bargain-seeking in streets far off, and ungenteel; the
+immense trouble she gives to the persons behind the counter,&mdash;all will
+induce you to forswear trying a second time the experiment of attending
+on the progress of a shopper who sets out with the vain expectation of
+obtaining good articles at paltry prices.</p>
+
+<p>In what are called "cheap shops," you will rarely find more than two or
+three things that are really cheap. If of bad quality, they are not
+<i>cheap</i>, but dear. Low-priced ribbons, for instance, are generally
+flimsy, tawdry, of ugly figures, and vulgar colours,&mdash;soon fading, and
+soon "getting into a string." Yet there are ladies who will walk two
+miles to hustle in the crowd they find squeezing toward the counter of
+the last new emporium of cheap ribbons; and, while waiting their turn,
+have nothing to look at around them but lots of trash, that if they
+bought they would be ashamed to wear. Coarse finery is trumpery.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, for ladies of small means, it is not indispensable to
+their standing in society, that they should deal only at stores noted
+for selling <i>higher</i> than the usual price. It is a very poor boast;
+particularly when they cannot afford it.</p>
+
+<p>Whatever may be the caprices of fashion, a lady of good taste (and we
+may add, good sense,) will not, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> buying dresses, select those of
+large figures, and high glaring colours. There is something peculiarly
+ungenteel and ungraceful in a white ground with large red flowers and
+green leaves wandering over it. Even if the fabric is brocade, it has a
+look of calico. Red and green is only beautiful in real flowers. In a
+lady's dress, it somehow looks unlady-like. A great variety of bright
+colours is only suited to a carpet. For a dress, two are quite
+sufficient. And then if one is blue, pink, scarlet, or orange, let it be
+contrasted with brown, gray, olive, or some chaste and quiet tint that
+will set it off. Few silks are more becoming than those in which the
+figure is formed by a darker shade of the same colour as the ground.
+Silks of one colour only, trim the best&mdash;variegated trimming looks
+confused and ineffective. No colours are more ungenteel, or in worse
+taste, than reddish lilacs, reddish purples, and reddish browns. The
+original tint of aronetta, or anatto, is the contempt of ladies; but by
+previously washing the article in strong, warm pot-ash water, before it
+is put into the solution of aronetta, you will obtain a beautiful
+bird-of-paradise colour, entirely free from all appearance of the
+unpopular powder.</p>
+
+<p>Buy no silk that is stiff and hard, however thick and heavy it may seem.
+It will crack and split, and wear worse than a soft silk that appears
+much thinner. Venture on no satin that is not of excellent quality. A
+thin satin frays and ravels, and is not worth making up. For common
+wear, a soft, thick India silk is generally excellent. We have never
+seen a <i>good one</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> for less than a dollar a yard. The figured or
+embossed India silks are not worth buying,&mdash;wearing rough and fuzzy, and
+fraying all over. For a serviceable, long-lasting home dress, there is
+nothing equal to a very thick, soft, double-width India black satin,
+such as is called two yards wide, and sells at two dollars a yard. But
+they have become very scarce. Never use satin to cover cord. It ravels
+too much. Velvet and satin should be corded with substantial silk. If
+you cannot match the exact shade, let it be darker rather than lighter.
+A belt-ribbon should always be darker than the dress. Cord merino with
+itself. A cording of silk will not wash.</p>
+
+<p>If you cannot get lace that is tolerably fine, wear none at all, rather
+than have it coarse. We have seen lace called Brussels, so coarse that
+it looked as if made of cotton, though in truth it was of thread. There
+was no real beauty in it. Genuine Brussels lace is exquisitely fine.</p>
+
+<p>Large showy ornaments, by way of jewellery, are exceedingly ungenteel.
+They always tell their own story, of glass stones set in gilding, not
+gold. If you cannot obtain real jewels, never attempt sham ones. It
+requires no practised eye to detect them&mdash;particularly false diamonds.</p>
+
+<p>Do not interfere with the shopping of other customers, (who may chance
+to stand near you at the counter,) by either praising or deprecating any
+of the articles they are looking at. Leave them to the exercise of their
+own judgment; unless they ask your opinion. And then give it in a low
+voice, and sincerely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>If you meet an acquaintance unexpectedly in a store, it is not well to
+engage in a long conversation with her, and thus detain persons behind
+the counter from waiting on other customers. Finish your purchase-making
+first, and then you will have leisure to step aside and converse. A
+store is not the place for social intercourse, and you may chance to say
+something there, that bystanders should not hear. "Greetings in the
+market-place" should always be short.</p>
+
+<p>It is not admissible to try on kid gloves in a store. After buying a
+pair, ask for the glove-stretcher, (which they keep in all good shops,
+for the convenience of customers,) and then stretch the gloves upon it,
+unless you have a glove-stretcher at home. This will render them easy to
+put on when you take them into wear. Glove-stretchers are to be bought
+at the variety stores; or ought to be. They will save many a new glove
+from tearing.</p>
+
+<p>In buying stockings, whether silk or cotton, you will find it cheapest
+in the end, to get those of the best <i>English</i> manufacture, particularly
+those of fine quality. For winter, and to wear with boots, English
+stockings of unbleached cotton are very comfortable, feeling warmer than
+those that are perfectly white. It is to be lamented that all black
+stockings (even of silk) are painful and injurious to the feet, the
+copperas dye being poisonous.</p>
+
+<p>In buying black mits, see that they are <i>really of silk</i>, otherwise they
+will stain your hands, and look brown and foxy. Much cotton is now
+substituted for silk; a way having been discovered of carding silk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> and
+cotton together, before the thread is spun. Linen also, is shamefully
+adulterated with cotton, and it is difficult for purchasers to discover
+the cheat before the article is washed. Linen is frequently injured in
+the piece by bad bleaching-salts; so that after the first washing, it
+drops into holes, such as are caused by vitriol. Of this we have had sad
+experience in several instances, when the linen was supposed to be of
+the best quality.</p>
+
+<p>Always object to a parcel being put up in newspaper&mdash;as the printing-ink
+will rub off, and soil the article enclosed. If it is a little thing
+that you are going to take home in your own hand, it will smear your
+gloves. All shopkeepers in good business can afford to buy proper
+wrapping-paper, and they generally do so. It is very cheap. See also
+that they do not wrap your purchase in so small a bit of paper as to
+squeeze and crush it.</p>
+
+<p>If you go out with much money, (which is never advisable,) divide it
+into two portions, putting part in your pocket-book or porte-monnaie,
+and the remainder into your purse, so that if you lose it, or have your
+pocket picked, the loss may be less. Do not carry notes in your purse,
+but keep them in your pocket-book. Little gold dollars had best go into
+your porte-monnaie. If kept in your purse with small change, you will be
+very likely to lose them, or to mistake them for three-cent pieces if
+the light is bad.</p>
+
+<p>Once, on embarking in a New York steamboat, we saw a gentleman having
+bought a penny paper, give the news-boy a gold eagle in mistake for a
+cent. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> gentleman was instantly apprized of his error by a bystander,
+who had seen it; but the boy had already sprung upon the wharf and was
+lost in the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>We knew an instance of a lady in New York giving a hundred-dollar note
+to a strawberry woman, instead of a note of one dollar. Neither note nor
+woman were seen or heard of more.</p>
+
+<p>In getting change see that three-cent pieces are not given to you for
+five cents.</p>
+
+<p>And now a few words to saleswomen. They have always, when commencing
+that vocation, two important qualities to cultivate (exclusive of
+cleverness in business)&mdash;civility, and patience. In these two
+requisites, few of our American young women are deficient. Let them also
+learn activity in moving, and quickness in recollecting where all the
+articles called for are to be found, so as not to keep the customers
+waiting too long, while they, the sellers, are searching the shelves and
+boxes. Also, if a lady wishes to match something, (for instance, a piece
+of silk,) it is foolish and useless to bring her a piece that is not
+<i>exactly</i> like; trying to persuade her to take it, and calling it "as
+good a match as she is likely to get." Of course she will <i>not</i> take a
+piece that is only <i>tolerably</i> like, but not quite the same; for unless
+it matches exactly, it is no match at all. If a customer enquires for
+light blue ribbon it is absurd to bring her dark blue, saying "we have
+no light blue"&mdash;or to say "we have no pink, but we have scarlet&mdash;we have
+no lilac, but we have purple." Or still worse, to try to persuade the
+customer that deep crimson is a beautiful shade of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> scarlet; or worse
+than all, that those very unbecoming tints, called improperly rose-white
+and pearl-white, are really a pure dead white; when you know very well
+that they are no such thing. Both white and black are very difficult to
+match <i>precisely</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Let the yard-measure be visible to the customers. In some shops the
+measure is at the back of the counter, hidden behind a glass case. This
+practice of measuring out of sight, sometimes gives rise to a suspicion
+that the measure is not true, as it is so easy to deceive where the
+brass nails that mark it are concealed from view of the customers.</p>
+
+<p>Every female who keeps, or attends in a store, should discourage the
+visits of her friends at business hours. If she looks off to chat with
+her shop-visiters, she cannot attend properly to her customers; and
+those visiters may be inconsiderate and obtrusive enough to interfere,
+by putting in their word, and praising the beauty or cheapness of the
+articles, by way of promoting the interest of the seller, which it
+ultimately <i>will not</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Show as much civility and attention to a customer plainly dressed, and
+walking on foot, or getting out of an omnibus, as you would to a lady
+elegantly attired, and coming in her own carriage. The former may prove
+the most profitable customer. Be careful to exhibit no temper, even if
+you have had the trouble of showing a variety of goods to one who goes
+away without buying any thing. Another time, perhaps, she may come and
+make large purchases: but if you offend her, she will assuredly never
+enter the store<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> again. Recollect that no one feels under the least
+compulsion to buy what does not suit them. You would not yourself.
+Habitual courtesy is a valuable qualification, and always turns to good
+account.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>PLACES OF AMUSEMENT.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It would be well in <i>all</i> places of public amusement, if there could be
+an apartment appropriated to the ladies, in which they might deposit
+their cloaks, hoods, &amp;c. in charge of a responsible attendant; her care
+to be rewarded by a small gratuity. Ladies would then be under no
+necessity of carrying warm outer-garments into a crowded and heated
+room; or of wearing their bonnets, and thereby intercepting the view of
+persons seated behind them; always a grievance where the benches are not
+sufficiently elevated, or where there is no difference at all in their
+respective elevation, as is sometimes the case. Also, the appearance of
+the female part of the company is always more elegant, when wearing
+bandeaus, caps, or other light head-dresses; young persons requiring
+their hair only, or the slight decoration of a flower or a ribbon. It is
+very painful and fatiguing to be for several hours continually dodging
+your head from side to side, and stretching your neck this way and that,
+and peeping wherever you can obtain a tantalizing glimpse between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> the
+bonnets of ladies seated immediately before you. This, in addition to
+the annoyance of being squeezed on a bench that is over-full, is enough
+to destroy nearly all the pleasure of the exhibition; and to make a
+large portion of the audience regret that they came.</p>
+
+<p>If you wish to secure a good seat, go early. It is better to sit there
+an hour before the commencement of the performance, than to arrive after
+it has begun. The time of waiting will soon pass away, in conversation
+with the friends whom you have accompanied.</p>
+
+<p>When invited to join a party to a place of amusement, begin to prepare
+in ample time; so as not to keep them waiting for you. When a <i>large</i>
+party is going to a place of amusement, (for instance, the theatre, or
+opera,) it is better that each family should go thither from their own
+home, (being provided with their own tickets,) than that they should all
+rendezvous at the house of one of the company; at the risk of keeping
+the whole party waiting, perhaps for the very youngest members of it.
+When a box has been taken, let the tickets be sent to all the persons
+who are to have seats in it, and not retained by the taker of the box
+till the whole party has assembled at the door of the theatre. If the
+tickets are thus distributed, the persons from each house can go when
+they please, without compelling any of the party to wait for them.</p>
+
+<p>Still, to make an entrance after the performance has begun, is (or ought
+to be) very embarrassing to ladies. It excites the attention of all
+around, diverting that attention from the performance; and there is
+always, when the house is full, and the hour late, some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> delay and
+difficulty in reaching the seats, even when the seats have been secured.</p>
+
+<p>If it is a concert, where places cannot be previously engaged, there
+are, of course, additional reasons for going in due time; and the most
+sensible and best-behaved part of the audience always endeavour to do
+so. But if you are unavoidably late, be satisfied to pay the penalty, by
+quietly taking back-seats, if no others are vacant. We have seen young
+ladies not arriving till after the entertainment had commenced, march
+boldly up to the front benches, and stand there looking steadfastly in
+the faces of gentlemen who with their parties had earned good seats by
+coming soon after the doors were opened. The ladies persevering in this
+determined stare, till they succeeded in dislodging these unfortunate
+gentlemen, and compelling them to quit their seats, to leave the ladies
+who belonged to them, and to stand for the remainder of the evening,
+perhaps in a distant part of the room. American <i>men</i> are noted,
+everywhere, for their politeness to females. We wish we could say the
+same of the politeness of our fair countrywomen in return. Yet
+frequently they will avail themselves of these civilities from
+strangers, without rewarding them with a word of thanks, or even a bow
+of acknowledgment.</p>
+
+<p>English tourists remark (and with truth) that there is no position in
+which American ladies appear to such disadvantage as when crowding the
+galleries of our legislative assemblies; ejecting gentlemen to whom it
+is of importance to hear the debates; and still worse, intruding upon
+the floor of the senate-chamber, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> compelling the senators to
+relinquish their places, and find others where they can, or else to
+stand all the time. And among these ladies, there may be very few who
+are really capable of enjoying or appreciating the eloquence of our
+distinguished orators, or of entering understandingly into the merits of
+the question. Often these damsels are whispering half the time about
+some nonsense of their own; and often, as is surmised, the chief object
+of the ladies whose visits to the capitol are most frequent, is the
+chance of a few words of flirtation with some of the most gallant among
+the members; or the possibility of being escorted home by a congressman,
+who has but little to do, or at least who does but little. We think the
+English parliament is right in excluding ladies from their halls, except
+when the queen goes there in state, to open or prorogue the session. Let
+them be satisfied with reading the debates in the newspapers.</p>
+
+<p>We acknowledge that it is very interesting to see and hear the most
+eminent men of our country arranging the affairs of the nation; to
+become acquainted with their personal appearance, and to listen to their
+eloquence. But the privilege should not be abused as it is, by those
+who, after all, listen so badly, or comprehend so badly, that if
+questioned an hour afterward, they could scarcely repeat the purport of
+one single sentence,&mdash;nor perhaps even recollect the subject of debate.
+Such instances we have known&mdash;and not a few of them either.</p>
+
+<p>To laugh deridingly, or to whisper unfavourable remarks during the
+performance of a concert or a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> play, is a rudeness of which few American
+ladies are guilty. Still, we occasionally see some of that few, who,
+much to the annoyance of those persons near them who really wish to
+enjoy what they came for, talk audibly in ridicule of the performers;
+the performers being, in all probability, near enough to hear these
+vexatious remarks, and to be disconcerted by them. We heard of a highly
+respectable actress who was so mortified by the unfeeling animadversions
+of some young ladies in a stage-box, that she forgot her part, was
+unable to utter a word, or to restrain her tears, and became so nervous
+that she played badly during the remainder of the piece, and was in
+consequence, severely handled next day by the newspaper critics. This
+was very hard.</p>
+
+<p>Parents before taking their children to the theatre, should first
+ascertain whether the play is such as will amuse or interest them. Small
+children are invariably restless, troublesome, and finally sleepy at a
+performance that affords <i>them</i> no entertainment, and they will be
+better at home. Yet we have seen little girls brought to see the painful
+tragedy of the Gamester&mdash;or still worse, the dreary comedy of the
+Stranger. How is it that young ladies are frequently matronized to plays
+that even their mothers cannot witness without blushes?</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+
+<h3>TRAVELLING.</h3>
+
+
+<p>No lady should set out on a journey unprovided with an oiled-silk bag
+for the reception of tooth-brushes, soap, a hair-brush, and a towel. Let
+the bag be about half a quarter of a yard longer at the back than at the
+front; so as to leave a flap to turn over, and tie down, when all the
+articles are in. It should be square, (exclusive of the flap,) and about
+a quarter and half-quarter in length, and the same in breadth; stitched
+in compartments, something like an old-fashioned thread-case, only that
+the compartments differ much in size. The two smallest are for two
+tooth-brushes. Another should be broad enough to contain a hair-brush.
+For travelling, have a hair-brush with a mirror at the back, and if you
+can get one that has also a dressing-comb attached to it, so much the
+better. The largest compartment (which should occupy the centre) is for
+a towel, and a cake of soap. If you are obliged to start in haste, all
+these things can be put in while wet from recent use, the towel being
+rolled or folded into as small a compass as possible. The oiled silk
+will prevent the wet from oozing through. When all are in, turn over the
+flap at the top, (which should be furnished with two long strings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> of
+broad, white tape,) and tie it securely down. Carry this bag in the
+square satchel which all ladies now keep in their hands when travelling,
+and which contain such things as they may want during the day,
+precluding the necessity of opening their large carpet-bag, till they
+stop for the night.</p>
+
+<p>In a carpet-bag pack nothing but white articles, or such as can be
+washed, and will not be spoiled by the bag chancing to get wet. Have
+your name engraved on the lock of your carpet-bag, and also on the brass
+plate of your trunks. Besides this, write your full direction on several
+cards, make a small hole in each, and running a string through the hole,
+tie a card to the handle of each trunk, and sew one on the side of your
+carpet-bag&mdash;the direction designating the place to which you are going.
+Your name in full should be painted in white letters on every trunk.
+This costs but a trifle, and secures the recognition of your baggage
+when missing. It is also an excellent plan to tie round the handle of
+each trunk or bag, a bit of ribbon&mdash;blue, red, or yellow&mdash;all the bits
+being off the same piece.<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p>
+
+<p>Write on a large card, a list and description of each trunk, box, &amp;c.
+and give the card to the gentleman who escorts you. It will greatly
+assist him in identifying all the articles that comprise your baggage.</p>
+
+<p>Be quite ready at least a quarter of an hour before the time for
+starting. Nelson said he traced all the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
+most fortunate events of his life to his practice of being, on every
+occasion, quite prepared a quarter of an hour too early. It is a good
+rule.</p>
+
+<p>Previous to departing, put into the hand of your escort rather more than
+a sufficient sum for the expenses of your journey, so as to provide for
+all possible contingencies. He will return you the balance when all is
+paid. Having done this, should any person belonging to the line come to
+you for your fare, refer them to the gentleman, (mentioning his name,)
+and take care to pay nothing more yourself.</p>
+
+<p>Dress very plainly when travelling. Few ladies that <i>are</i> ladies wear
+finery in rail-cars, and steamboats&mdash;still less in stages&mdash;stage-roads
+being usually very dusty. Showy silks, and what are called dress-bonnets
+are preposterous&mdash;so are jewellery ornaments, which, if real, you run a
+great risk of losing, and if false, are very ungenteel. Above all, do
+not travel in white kid gloves. Respectable women never do.</p>
+
+<p>The best travelling-dresses are of merino, or alpaca; plain mousseline
+de laine, grey or brown linen; or strong India silk, senshaw for
+instance. In warm weather, gingham is better than printed lawn, which
+rumples and tumbles and "gets into a string" directly. The sleeves wide,
+for if tight to the arm, they will stain with perspiration. Your
+travelling-dress for summer should have a large cape or pelerine of the
+same. Beside which, carry on your arm a large shawl for chilly mornings
+and evenings. No lady should travel in cold weather, without a warm
+cloak, mantilla, or pelisse,&mdash;furs, &amp;c. of course&mdash;and travelling-boots<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
+lined with fur or flannel; having also inner soles of lambs-wool,
+varnished on the leather side to make them water-proof. Take with you
+one of those very useful umbrellas, that are large enough to shelter one
+person from the rain, and can also be used as a parasol. Do not pack it
+away in a trunk, for you may want it in the transit from rail-car to
+steamboat. Keep it near you all the time, with your satchel and extra
+shawl. By all means wear a white collar.</p>
+
+<p>If you are fortunately able to ride backward as well as forward, you
+will be less incommoded with flying sparks, by sitting with your back to
+the engine. A spark getting into the eye is very painful, and sometimes
+dangerous. It is possible to expel it by blowing your nose very hard,
+while with the other hand you wipe out the particle of cinder with a
+corner of your handkerchief, pulling down the lower eye-lid. We have
+seen this done successfully. Another way is to wrap the head of a pin in
+the corner of a fine, soft cambric handkerchief, and placing it beneath
+the lid, sweep all round the eye with it. If this does not succeed, get
+out at the first station-house where you can stop long enough, procure a
+bristle-hair from a sweeping-brush, tie it in a loop or bow with a bit
+of thread, and let some one insert it beneath your eye-lid, and move it
+slowly all round, so as to catch in it the offending particle of coal,
+and bring it out. Or if there is time, send to the nearest apothecary
+for an eye-stone, (in reality, a lobster's eye,) and soak it five
+minutes in a saucer of vinegar and water to give it activity, then,
+wiping it dry, and carefully inserting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> it beneath the eye-lid, bind a
+handkerchief over it. The eye-stone will go circling round the eye, and
+most likely take up the mote in its course. When the pain ceases, remove
+the handkerchief, and wash the eye with cold water.</p>
+
+<p>To read in a rail-car is very injurious to the eyes, from the quivering,
+tremulous motion it seems to communicate to the letters of the page. It
+is best to abstain from your book till you are transferred to the
+steamboat.</p>
+
+<p>Many persons cannot talk in a rail-car without a painful exertion of the
+voice. And it is not an easy task, even to those whose lungs are strong.
+You can easily excuse yourself from conversing with your escort, by
+telling him that your voice is not loud enough to be heard above the
+racket of the cars, and that though you will gladly listen to <i>him</i>, he
+must allow you to listen without replying, except in as few words as
+possible. If he finds a gentleman with whom he is acquainted, desire him
+to talk to his friend, and leave you to hear their conversation as a
+silent auditor.</p>
+
+<p>If you pass the night in a steamboat, and can afford the additional
+expense of a <i>whole</i> state-room, by all means engage one as soon as you
+go on board. The chambermaid will give you the key and the number, and
+you can retire to it whenever you please, and enjoy the luxury of being
+alone, and of washing and dressing without witnesses. If you are
+constrained to take a berth in the ladies' sleeping-cabin, it is not the
+least necessary to retire to it immediately after supper. By doing so
+you will have a very long, tiresome night,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> and be awake many hours
+before morning. And if you are awake, do not be continually calling upon
+the poor chambermaid, and disturbing her with enquiries, such as "Where
+are we now?" and "How soon shall we arrive?"</p>
+
+<p>The saloon is the place in which ladies and gentlemen sit together. If a
+lady is so inconsiderate or selfish as to violate the rules of the boat,
+by inviting her husband or lover to take a seat in the ladies' cabin,
+there is no impropriety in sending the chambermaid to remind him that he
+must leave the room. This is often done, and always should be. We once
+saw a gentleman (or a pretended one) so pertinacious in remaining, (it
+is true his lady-love urged him "not to mind,") that the captain had to
+be brought to threaten him with forcible expulsion. This had the desired
+effect.</p>
+
+<p>Such are the facilities of travelling, that a lady evidently
+respectable, plainly dressed, and behaving properly, may travel very
+well without a gentleman. Two ladies still better. On commencing the
+journey she should speak to the conductor, requesting him to attend to
+her and her baggage, and to introduce her to the captain of the boat,
+who will of course take charge of her during the voyage.</p>
+
+<p>Before arriving at the wharf, she had best engage one of the servants of
+the boat, (promising him a shilling or two,) to obtain for her a porter
+or a hack, and to see that her baggage is safe. She must stipulate with
+the hackman that no stranger is to be put into the carriage with her.
+This is against the law,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> but notwithstanding, is often done, and the
+lady who has first engaged the coach, is liable to have for her
+riding-companions persons of improper character and vulgar appearance,
+and to be carried with them to their places in remote parts of the city,
+before she is conveyed to her own home. Previous to getting in, take the
+number of the coach, by writing it on a card with your pencil, and make
+your bargain with him as to the charge for conveying you and your
+baggage.</p>
+
+<p>It would be well if the imposition and insolence of hack-drivers were
+<i>always</i> followed with the punishments provided by law. Ladies are
+naturally unwilling to appear at a magistrate's office. But it is the
+duty of every gentleman, as a good citizen, to see that the municipal
+regulations are never violated with impunity.</p>
+
+<p>All trouble may be avoided on arriving, by sending for the captain of
+the boat, and requesting him to see you on shore, or to depute his clerk
+to that office.</p>
+
+<p>In arriving at a rail-road depôt, be careful not to quit the cars till
+after they have positively stopped quite still. The time gained is but
+an instant, and the risk is very imminent of serious injury by falling,
+should your ankle twist in stepping out while there is the least motion.</p>
+
+<p>On arriving at a hotel, ask immediately to see the proprietor; give him
+your name and address, tell how long you purpose staying, and request
+him to see that you are provided with a good room. Request him also to
+conduct you to the dining-room at dinner-time, and allot you a seat near
+his own. For this purpose,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> he will wait for you near the door, (do not
+<i>keep him waiting</i>,) or meet you in the ladies' drawing-room. While at
+table, if the proprietor or any other gentleman asks you to take wine
+with him, politely refuse.</p>
+
+<p>If, on arriving at the wharf, you expect a gentleman to meet you, take a
+seat either on deck near the cabin-door, or just inside of the door, so
+that he may find you easily.</p>
+
+<p>If you are to pursue your journey early in the morning, desire,
+over-night, the waiter who attends your room, to knock hard at your door
+an hour before the time of starting. Before you go down-stairs, ask for
+the chambermaid who has attended you, and give her a fee, (not less than
+a quarter-dollar,) putting it into her own hand yourself, and not
+commissioning another to convey it to her. Do not omit giving a
+quarter-dollar at least, to the waiter who attended your room, and one
+also to him who has served you at table.</p>
+
+<p>Refrain from making acquaintance with any strangers, unless you are
+certain of their respectability. If a gentleman of whom you know
+nothing, endeavours to get into conversation with you, turn away, and
+make no reply. Avoid saying any thing to women in showy attire, with
+painted faces, and white kid gloves. Such persons have frequently the
+assurance to try to be very sociable with respectable ladies who are
+travelling alone. Keep aloof from them always.</p>
+
+<p>If you have breakfasted early, it will be well to put some
+gingerbread-nuts or biscuits into your satchel, as you may become very
+hungry before dinner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Carry but little money in your pocket&mdash;not more than will suffice for
+the expenses of the day. But for travelling, have another pocket,
+concealed <i>beneath</i> your upper petticoat, and <i>in that</i> keep the main
+portion of your cash. Be cautious of taking bank-notes in change&mdash;they
+may be such as you cannot pass. If they are offered to you, refuse them,
+and insist upon gold or silver.</p>
+
+<p>Travelling in America, ladies frequently meet with little civilities
+from gentlemen, so delicately offered, that to refuse them would be
+rude. These incidental acts of politeness should always be acknowledged
+with thanks; but they should not be construed into a desire of
+commencing an acquaintance. If a lady obliged to travel alone, wishes to
+be treated with respect, her own deportment must in all things be quiet,
+modest and retiring.</p>
+
+<p>If you have a servant with you, see that she gets her meals, and has a
+comfortable sleeping-place, or in all probability she will be neglected
+and overlooked. In a steamboat or a hotel, speak yourself to the
+head-waiter, and desire him to take her to the servants' table and
+attend to her; and tell the chambermaid to see her provided with a bed.
+If their lady forgets to look out for them, coloured women in particular
+have often no courage to look out for themselves.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+
+<h3>DEPORTMENT AT A HOTEL, OR AT A LARGE
+BOARDING-HOUSE.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Now that there is so much travelling in the summer, (and indeed at all
+seasons,) and so much living in public, to save the trouble and the
+expense of keeping house in private, it may be well to offer some hints
+on the propriety of manners that ought to be observed in places where
+you are always exposed to the inspection and to the remarks of
+strangers. These strangers, knowing you but slightly, or not at all,
+will naturally draw their inferences for or against you from what they
+see before their eyes; concluding that you are genteel or ungenteel,
+patrician or plebeian, according to the coarseness or the polish of your
+manners.</p>
+
+<p>Yet strange to say, there are persons who indulge themselves in
+astounding acts of rudeness, from the supposition that a hotel is only a
+tavern, a sort of Liberty Hall, where every one has a right to "take
+their ease in their inn," if they pay for it. Have they no respect for
+themselves?</p>
+
+<p>It is usual for members of the same party to meet in the ladies'
+drawing-room before they go in to breakfast, unless the party is large;
+and then it is not expected that half a dozen persons should be kept
+waiting for one or two late risers, or tardy dressers. When<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> two or
+three of the party find themselves ready in the parlour, it will be best
+for them to proceed to the eating-room, and leave the others to follow
+at their convenience, by twos or by threes,&mdash;always seeing that a young
+lady, if a stranger, is not left to go in alone. Strangers at hotels can
+have no particular seats at breakfast and tea, as at these two repasts,
+they always come to table by instalments, and at no regular time. If a
+large party enters all at once and they are <i>determined</i> to sit all
+together, they may occasion much inconvenience to persons already
+seated, or to the regular boarders, who have their allotted seats.
+Neither is there any necessity or advantage in six, eight, or ten
+people, who travel as one party, resolving to establish themselves at a
+hotel-table all side by side, in a row; particularly when it causes
+inconvenience to others. Certainly not more than three or four persons
+ranged in a line can join in the same conversation, or attend to the
+wants of their friends. Why then should they make any extraordinary
+point of occupying chairs next to each other. It would be better to
+divide their forces; and if they can, for half to sit on one side of the
+table, and the other half directly opposite. Or they will find that if
+the table is full, and they have to disperse still more widely, they had
+best do so with a good grace, rather than make any disturbance on the
+subject. When they quit the table to return to the drawing-room they may
+be very sure of all meeting again near the door.</p>
+
+<p>Nine o'clock (or half-past) is the latest hour that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> any guest at a
+hotel should come to breakfast; and few <i>Americans</i> have so little
+consideration as to detain the table and the servants till ten or
+eleven.<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> At a boarding-house, the guests are very soon made to
+understand that if they are late risers, they need expect nothing but
+the cold leavings of the breakfast. At a hotel they find more
+indulgence. You there choose from the bill of fare such dishes as you
+may prefer, and they will be brought to you, after you have been
+supplied with tea or coffee, and bread and butter to begin with. To each
+person is allowed a separate dish or plate of the articles selected; and
+it is understood to be for yourself alone, and that no other person has
+a right to partake of it, or to meddle with it in any way. Yet even from
+your own dish, never help yourself with the knife and fork or spoon you
+are eating with; but always use a spare one, with which the waiter will
+furnish you. Do not eat different sorts of relishes off the same plate.
+At a hotel there is no scarcity of plates, or of servants to change
+them. Always take butter with the butter-knife, and then do not forget
+to return that knife to the butter-plate. Carefully avoid cutting bread
+with your own knife, or taking salt with it from the salt-cellar. It
+looks as if you had not been accustomed to butter-knives and
+salt-spoons.</p>
+
+<p>Ladies no longer eat salt-fish at a public-table.
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>
+The odour of it is now considered extremely ungenteel, and it is always
+very disagreeable to those who <i>do not</i> eat it. If you breakfast alone,
+you can then indulge in it.</p>
+
+<p>Speak to the waiter in a distinct, but not in too loud a voice, and
+always civilly. Thank him for any little extra attention he may show
+you. If you do not like what he has brought you, or find that you cannot
+eat it, make your objection in a low voice, so as not to be heard by the
+neighbouring guests; and quietly desire him to bring you something else.</p>
+
+<p>It is usual at a hotel-table for each waiter to have charge of three or
+four persons, and to attend to <i>their</i> wants exclusively. If you are a
+stranger, ask the waiter his name when he first comes to you; and unless
+he is not at hand, and you see another standing idle, do not call on any
+one else to attend you.</p>
+
+<p>If the servants are coloured men, refrain from all conversation in their
+presence that may grate harshly on their feelings, by reminding them of
+their unfortunate African blood. Do not talk of them as "negroes,"<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> or
+"darkies." Avoid all discussions of abolition, (either for or against,)
+when coloured people are by. Also, quote none of their laughable sayings
+while they are present.</p>
+
+<p>When the domestics are Irish, and you have occasion to reprove them for
+their negligence, forgetfulness, or blunders, do so without any
+reference to their
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
+country. If you find one who is disrespectful or insolent, or who
+persists in asserting a falsehood, it is safest to make no reply
+yourself, but to have the matter represented to the proprietor of the
+house; desiring that another waiter may be allotted to you.</p>
+
+<p>It is ungenteel to go to the breakfast-table in any costume approaching
+to full dress. There must be no flowers or ribbons in the hair. A
+morning-cap should be as simple as possible. The most genteel
+morning-dress is a close gown of some plain material, with long sleeves,
+which in summer may be white muslin. A merino or cashmere wrapper,
+(grey, brown, purple, or olive,) faced or trimmed with other merino of
+an entirely different colour, such as crimson, scarlet, green, or blue,
+is a becoming morning dress for winter. In summer, a white
+cambric-muslin morning-robe is the handsomest breakfast attire, but one
+of gingham or printed muslin the most convenient. The coloured dress may
+be made open in front, with short loose sleeves and a pointed body.
+Beneath it a white under-dress, having a chemisette front down to the
+belt, and long white sleeves down to the wrist. This forms a very
+graceful morning costume, the white skirt appearing where the coloured
+skirt opens.</p>
+
+<p>The fashion of wearing black silk mittens at breakfast is now obsolete.
+It was always inconvenient, and neither useful nor ornamental.</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast, it is customary for the ladies to adjourn to the
+drawing-room, where they converse, or read the papers, or receive early
+visiters, while the chambermaids are putting the bed-chambers in order.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
+Some who are not accustomed to hotels, go immediately from the
+breakfast-table to their own apartment, sitting there among the flue and
+dust during the whole process of bed-making and room-sweeping; afraid to
+trust the chambermaid alone, lest she should steal something. This is
+absurd. They should know that the chambermaids (being all considered
+honest and responsible) are furnished with duplicate keys, by which they
+can at any time unlock the chamber-doors, and let themselves in, when
+the occupant is absent. Also, this palpable suspicion of their honesty
+is an insult to the girls, and is always felt as such. It is sufficient
+to lock the bureau, the wardrobe, and your trunks. When you go out,
+(that is, out of the house,) <i>then</i> lock the door of your room, lest
+some one passing by, should have curiosity to stroll in and look about,
+and meddle with what they see there.</p>
+
+<p>Should you perceive that the dress of another lady is, by some accident,
+out of order&mdash;for instance, that a hook or a button has become
+unfastened; or that a string is visibly hanging out; a collar unpinned,
+and falling off; the corner of a shawl dragging along the floor; a skirt
+caught up; or a sleeve slipping down, immediately have the kindness to
+apprize her of it in a low voice, and assist her in repairing the
+mischance; and, if necessary, leave the room with her for that purpose.</p>
+
+<p>We have seen a lady who, finding that a cluster of her false curls was
+coming down, had the courage to say so to a gentleman with whom she was
+conversing at a party. And going openly, and at once, to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> nearest
+mirror, she calmly adjusted her borrowed locks, and returned to her seat
+with a good grace. Consequently, nobody laughed at the untoward
+accident; as might perhaps have been the case, had she seemed
+excessively confused and mortified, and awkwardly tried to hold on her
+curls till she got out of the room.</p>
+
+<p>If you do not wish to be encumbered by carrying the key in your pocket,
+let it be left during your absence, with the clerk in the office, or
+with the barkeeper; and send to him for it on your return. Desire the
+servant who attends the door to show no person up to your room during
+your absence. If visiters wish to wait for your return, it is best they
+should do so in the parlour.</p>
+
+<p>In going in and out, be careful to shut the parlour-doors after you,
+except in summer. Young ladies are often very inconsiderate in this
+respect, and cause much inconvenience, in cold weather, to those who do
+not like to sit with a draught of keen air blowing upon them. Even if
+you feel too warm yourself, it is rude to throw open a door, (much more
+to raise a window-sash,) without first enquiring if other ladies have no
+objection.</p>
+
+<p>There is no impropriety in a lady commencing conversation with a
+stranger of genteel appearance. You can easily take occasion to mention
+your own name, and then, in return, she will communicate hers. But,
+unless you are previously certain of her respectability, have little to
+say to a woman who is travelling without a companion, and whose face is
+painted, who wears a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> profusion of long curls about her neck, who has a
+meretricious expression of eye, and who is over-dressed. It is safest to
+avoid her. Also, you will derive no pleasure or advantage from making
+acquaintance with females who are evidently coarse and vulgar, even if
+you know that they are rich, live in a large house, and are of
+respectable character. Young girls who are loud, noisy, bold, and
+forward, (however fashionable they may be,) it is best also to avoid.
+They will not want your society, as they are generally all the time
+surrounded by "beaux," or else rattling over the keys of the piano.</p>
+
+<p>In a public parlour, it is selfish and unmannerly to sit down to the
+instrument uninvited, and fall to playing or practising, without seeming
+to consider the probability of your interrupting or annoying the rest of
+the company, particularly when you see them all engaged in reading or in
+conversation. If you want amusement, you had better read, or occupy
+yourself with some light sewing or knitting-work.</p>
+
+<p>If you have no book, you can ring the bell, and send to the reading-room
+to borrow a file of newspapers; but in most hotels, there are books
+belonging to the establishment, lying on a table in the ladies' parlour.
+Be sure not to carry any of these books up-stairs, as they are intended
+solely for the drawing-room; and their removal from thence is
+interdicted. Also, never carry away the Directory, the Atlas, the City
+Guide, or any other book placed there for the convenience of strangers.</p>
+
+<p>If you want pen and ink, or any sort of stationery,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> you can obtain it
+immediately, by ringing for a servant to bring it you from the office.
+In ringing the bell, one pull is sufficient; and always pull the cord
+<i>downward</i>. If you jerk it out horizontally, and give successively
+several hard pulls in that direction, the cord is very likely to break,
+or the knob or tassel to come off in your hand. At the chief hotel in
+one of the New England cities, we saw a printed paper with directions in
+large type, pasted beside <i>every bell-pull in the house</i>; the directions
+specifying minutely the proper mode of bell-ringing. Could it be that
+this house was frequented by persons unaccustomed to bells?</p>
+
+<p>To return to the too-prevalent evil of uninvited and ill-timed
+piano-playing, (much of which does not deserve the name of music,) we
+have always been at a loss to understand how a young stranger, (modest
+and unobtrusive in other things,) could walk up to the instrument,
+sometimes almost as soon as she arrives, and rattle "fast and furious"
+over the keys, drowning the voices of ladies and gentlemen who were
+talking, and therefore compelling them to cease their conversation; or
+if they pursued it, obliging them to raise their tone painfully; or to
+lose more than half, from the impossibility of hearing each other
+distinctly. To read when piano-playing is going on, is to most persons
+impossible. There are few readers who cannot so concentrate their
+attention on their book, as not to be disturbed by any <i>talking</i> that
+may occur in their vicinity; and if talking <i>does</i> withdraw their
+attention from the book, it is best that they should read only<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> when
+alone in their apartment. But we have met with no one who could read in
+the neighbourhood of a played piano.</p>
+
+<p>If the music is really very good, and accompanied by a fine voice, it is
+true that most readers will willingly close the book to listen. But if
+the playing is barely tolerable, or decidedly bad, and if the singing is
+weak and insipid, or harsh and screaming, or timeless and tasteless, who
+can possibly wish to hear it; except perhaps a doating father, or an
+injudicious mother, vain of her daughter because she is <i>hers</i>, and so
+anxious to show her off, that she encourages the girl to display even
+her deficiencies.</p>
+
+<p>We believe that our beloved America is not yet the land of music; and
+that (with many exceptions) her children are generally not furnished
+with much capacity for it. If there was a true feeling for music, there
+would be more genius for that charming art, and there would be more
+composers of original airs, the number of which, in our country, is
+smaller than in any civilized nation in the world. It is true we have
+many excellent musicians, and many very good singers, but still, music
+is not the grand forte of Jonathan. Pity it were,&mdash;for he has "a nobler
+and a manlier one."</p>
+
+<p>Now as "there is a time for all things," we persist in saying that the
+time and place for school-girls to hear their own music, or to prove
+that it is not worth hearing, is not in the drawing-room of a hotel, or
+in the presence of a company that can have no desire to hear them. What
+would be thought of a young lady,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> who in a public room, should suddenly
+come forward and "speak a speech;" or suddenly rise up, and commence,
+"loud and high," a reading of poetry, or recite a French fable, or
+repeat the multiplication table, or favour the company with a
+spontaneous <i>pas seul</i>. And yet we do not perceive that any of these
+feats would be a much greater evidence of deficiency in diffidence, (to
+call it by no bolder name,) than the practice of rattling, uninvited and
+unseasonably, over the keys of a piano. A really good musician is rarely
+obtrusive with her music, seldom playing unless she is asked; and then,
+of course, complying at once.<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></p>
+
+<p>We repeat that no lady should play or sing in company, unless she knows
+herself to be universally considered a good singer or player, and
+capable of something more than the mere series of lessons she has learnt
+from her music teacher. Also, some punishment should be devised for a
+young girl who cannot play, yet has the folly and assurance to seat
+herself at the piano of a public parlour, and annoy the company by an
+hour of tinking and tanking with one finger only. Yet this we have seen;
+and her mother present all the time.</p>
+
+<p>The gratuitous exhibition of bad music is said by Europeans to be one of
+the peculiar characteristics of
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
+American young ladies. Let them then "reform it altogether."</p>
+
+<p>Bring no large sewing into the ladies' drawing-room, and nothing that
+will produce clippings or litter. Whenever you have occasion to write
+more than a few lines, do it in your own apartment. It is well to have
+always there a small writing-case of your own, with paper, pens, ink,
+wafers, sealing-wax, envelopes, post-office stamps, &amp;c. There are very
+neat little writing-cases, (to be purchased at the best stationers,)
+that are fitted with receptacles for all the above articles, excepting
+paper; the whole occupying no more space in your travelling-satchel than
+a needle-book. The ink is so secured, that there is no danger of its
+spilling. You may even carry these writing-cases in your pocket as
+conveniently as a card-case. As writing-paper should not be folded or
+rolled in packing, lay it flat in a small port-folio, and put it into
+your trunk. You will find great convenience, when from home, to have
+with you a little assortment of writing materials.</p>
+
+<p>Except in cases of illness, it is well to decline invitations to visit
+ladies in their own apartments, unless you are very intimately
+acquainted with them, or have some particular business. Too much
+sociability may induce communications too confidential; and subsequent
+events may prove this confidence to be misplaced. Among the ladies
+staying at a hotel, there is always more harmony, when they all content
+themselves with meeting at table, or in the public drawing-room. Young
+ladies should not encourage daily morning visits from young men boarding
+at the same<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> house, particularly if these visits are long. In our
+country, nearly every young man is obliged, in some way, to get his own
+living; and few can afford to idle away their mornings in loitering
+about parlours, and talking flirtation. A youth who passes his time in
+this manner, is a beau not worth having. A man that deserves to be
+called a <i>good match</i> has something else to do with his mornings. Ladies
+at hotels should be specially careful not to make acquaintance with
+gentlemen of whom they know nothing. If a man of notoriously dissipated
+or immoral character, presumes to request an introduction to a lady who
+is aware of his bad reputation, let her at once reply that not
+considering the acquaintance desirable, she must be excused for
+declining it. It is better thus to keep off an objectionable man, (even
+with the certainty of offending him,) than weakly to subject yourself to
+the annoyance and discredit (perhaps, still worse) of allowing him to
+boast of his intimacy with you.</p>
+
+<p>In conversing with gentlemen at hotels, (and all other places,) try not
+to fall into the too common practice of talking to him nothing but
+nonsense. It is a problem difficult to solve, that so many ladies of
+good abilities and cultivated minds, and who always with their own sex
+talk like intelligent, sensible women, should, as soon as they get into
+conversation with a gentleman, seem immediately to take leave of
+rationality, and demean themselves like utter fools&mdash;giving way at once
+to something they call <i>excitement</i>, now the fashionable word for almost
+every feeling that is wrong.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We grieve to see a charming, modest, refined young lady, almost the
+moment a gentleman begins to talk to her, changing her whole demeanour,
+and quickly becoming bold, forward, noisy, and nonsensical; chattering
+at the top of her voice about nothing; and keeping up a continual laugh
+about nothing. Does she suppose he cannot understand her if she talks
+sense,&mdash;or does she think he will like her the better for regaling him
+with nothing but folly? She is, in all probability, egregiously
+mistaken, unless the gentleman is himself a simpleton.</p>
+
+<p>Let it not be supposed that we have any objection to that sprightliness
+which is one of the most agreeable characteristics of youth. On the
+contrary, we are glad to see vivacity in women of all ages; and if they
+have a sprinkling of wit and humour, so much the better. But we wish
+them to do themselves justice; and not, when conversing with men, run
+wild, because it <i>is</i> with men; and give themselves up to all manner of
+folly, such as would be pointless, vapid, and insipid, if it was not
+seasoned with causeless laughter, and with eyes keeping time to the
+tongue, rolling about in perpetual motion at nothing. We do not wish
+ladies in conversing, even with men of sense, to confine themselves
+always to grave discussions on important subjects. On the contrary, gay
+and lively conversation is always pleasant, when well-timed. But those
+who have not a talent for wit and humour, had best not attempt it.
+Again, in listening to a woman of real wit, you will see that it is her
+hearers who laugh, and not herself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Persons who have no turn for humour, and little perception of it, are
+apt to mistake mere coarseness for that amusing gift; and in trying to
+be diverting, often become vulgar&mdash;a word not too severe for things that
+are sometimes said and written by very good people who wish to be funny,
+and do not know how. For instance, there is no wit, but there is
+shocking ungentility, in a lady to speak of taking a "snooze" instead of
+a nap,&mdash;in calling pantaloons "pants," or gentlemen "gents,"&mdash;in saying
+of a man whose dress is getting old that he looks "seedy,"&mdash;and in
+alluding to an amusing anecdote, or a diverting incident, to say that it
+is "rich." All slang words are detestable from the lips of ladies.</p>
+
+<p>We are always sorry to hear a young lady use such a word as "polking"
+when she tells of having been engaged in a certain dance too fashionable
+not long since; but happily, now it is fast going out, and almost
+banished from the best society. To her honour be it remembered, Queen
+Victoria has prohibited the polka being danced in her presence. How can
+a genteel girl bring herself to say, "Last night I was polking with Mr.
+Bell," or "Mr. Cope came and asked me to polk with him." Its coarse and
+ill-sounding name is worthy of the dance.</p>
+
+<p>If you own a lap-dog or poodle, recollect that however charming it may
+be to yourself, others may regard it as an annoyance; therefore, try to
+do without it when you are in the parlour of a house that is not your
+own, and when the company present does not consist entirely of your own
+family. All but their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> infatuated mistresses soon become very tired of
+the society of these animals. Poodles are generally peevish, whining,
+and snappish, prone to get under chairs and bite at feet, and to writhe
+about the skirts of dresses. Their faces often look old, withered,
+cross, and blear-eyed, seeming as if constantly troubled by the hair
+that dangles uncomfortably in their eyes; and they are seldom healthy.
+They have none of the honest, grateful, affectionate character common to
+dogs of larger growth. Though they often inspire their mistress with a
+love that becomes such a mania as to weaken her affection for all other
+things, they seldom make friends of any one else. We include what is
+called a King Charles's dog in the same category. For instance
+Jip&mdash;whose character is as true to nature, and as admirably drawn as
+that of Dora herself.</p>
+
+<p>Should a visiter come in to see one of the boarders who may be sitting
+near you, change your place, and take a seat in a distant part of the
+room. It is ill-manners to remain, and listen to the conversation. It is
+best for the visited lady to meet her friend as soon as she sees her
+enter the room, and conduct her to a sofa or ottoman where they can
+enjoy their talk without danger of being overheard. After the visiter is
+gone, do not enquire her name of the friend she has just called on.</p>
+
+<p>It is <i>not</i> well to call at the same time on two ladies both living at
+the same house, (so as to make one visit suffice for both,) unless they
+are intimate friends of each other, or unless your stay in the city will
+be very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> short. If one is taciturn, and the other conversable, she that
+is silent may imagine herself neglected, by the dialogue being chiefly
+between those who can talk fluently, as it certainly will be, if the
+third person only speaks when spoken to, and replies in monosyllables.</p>
+
+<p>It is better to make a separate visit to each lady, on different days.
+There is another way, and a very good one. For instance, should Mrs.
+Canning wish to call on Mrs. Austin and Miss Lovel, both inmates of the
+same house, let her, when shown into the parlour, send up her name to
+Mrs. Austin first. When that lady comes down, and she and her friend
+have conversed about as long as the usual term of a morning call, Mrs.
+Canning will rise to depart, and when Mrs. Austin has seen her to the
+parlour door, Mrs. C. may say, "I will detain you no longer," or "I will
+encroach no longer on your time, but I am going now to send up for Miss
+Lovel."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Austin then takes her leave, and goes up-stairs, (<i>her</i> part of the
+visit being over;) while Mrs. Canning returns to her seat in the
+parlour, having first rung the bell, and sent for Miss Lovel.</p>
+
+<p>In this manner, two distinct visits may be politely made to two ladies
+living in the same hotel&mdash;and it is very customary.</p>
+
+<p>Any lady that lives at a hotel can in some degree make a return for the
+civilities received from private families, by occasionally inviting a
+friend to dine or take tea with her. These dinners or teas are of course
+always charged in her bill. If she expects a friend, she will previously
+send to apprize the head-waiter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> that she wishes him to reserve a seat
+next to her own, for a lady. She should give her arm to her guest, in
+going to the table.</p>
+
+<p>If a friend chances to call, whom she really wishes to stay and dine or
+drink tea with her, she should ask her guest to take off her bonnet as
+soon as she comes in; giving her the invitation at once, and not
+delaying it till the visiter is about taking her leave.</p>
+
+<p>Even in a private house, such extemporaneous invitations (which if
+evidently sincere, are always gratifying, whether accepted or not)
+should be given <i>immediately</i>, as soon as the hostess meets her guest.
+There will then be time to order any improvement in the table
+arrangements that may be deemed necessary.</p>
+
+<p>We often have occasion to repeat, that whatever is done at all, should
+be done well.</p>
+
+<p>If, while in the parlour of the hotel, you wish to know if a person you
+are desirous of seeing is staying at the house, the easiest way to
+obtain the information, is not to enquire round of the ladies present,
+but to ring the bell, and desire the waiter to go and ask at the office.
+You can then send a message accordingly. It should be a card with a
+message pencilled on it.</p>
+
+<p>By sending to the office you may learn where all the public places in
+the city and its environs are to be found. Also, where the churches are
+situated.</p>
+
+<p>You may be sure that the most fashionable shops are in the main street.</p>
+
+<p>At any stationer's, you can buy a small pocket-map of the city, folded
+in a little morocco case. This will be an almost indispensable aid in
+finding your way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> In Philadelphia, the arrangement of the long streets
+that run east and west from the Delaware to the Schuylkill, has given
+occasion to the old rhyme of</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i0">Market, Arch, Race and Vine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce and Pine.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>If when about to ascend the stairs, you find that a gentleman is going
+up at the same time, draw back and make a sign for him to precede you.
+He will bow, and pass on before you. When coming down, do the same, that
+the gentleman may descend in advance of you.</p>
+
+<p>A very polished man will not wait for a signal from the lady, but will
+bow and run up-stairs, passing her as a thing of course.</p>
+
+<p>Do not idly detain a parlour newspaper on your lap, for half an hour or
+more, after you have done reading it. As soon as you have read all you
+want, replace it on the table, or transfer it to another lady, who may
+wish to read it, and who may have been waiting anxiously to see you lay
+it out of your hand. You have no right to monopolize any thing that is
+intended for the convenience of the whole company.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+
+<h3>HOTEL DINNER.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In dressing for a hotel dinner, it is not well to adopt a full evening
+costume, and to appear as if attired for a ball; for instance, with a
+coloured velvet gown; or one of a splendid brocade; or a transparent
+gauze material over a satin; or with short sleeves and bare neck in cold
+weather; or with flowers or jewels in the hair. Such costumes should be
+reserved for evening parties. If worn at the table d'hôte, it may be
+suspected you have no other place in which to display them. Your dress
+need not be more showy than you would wear when dining at a private
+house, particularly if you are a permanent boarder. There is no place
+where dress escapes with less scrutiny than at a great hotel. Still, it
+is bad taste to go to the dinner-table in ungenteel and unbecoming
+habiliments&mdash;such as a figured or party-coloured mousseline-de-laine, a
+thing which always has the effect of calico, and, like calico, gives an
+unlady-like look even to the most decided lady. In fact, what is it but
+woollen calico? And if it is accompanied by a very thin, flimsy collar,
+so small and narrow as to be scarcely visible, the neck and face will
+look dingy and ill-coloured for want of sufficient white to relieve it.
+No<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> collar at all, but merely a coloured silk handkerchief, or a
+coloured dress, coming immediately against the neck, is disfiguring to
+all women, and men too.</p>
+
+<p>Most American ladies beyond the age of thirty-five, look better in caps
+than without them, even if their hair shows no signs of middle age.
+Before that time, the females of our country begin to fade, evincing one
+effect of torrid summers and frozen winters. A tasteful and simply
+elegant cap (not one that is elaborate in its design, and loaded with
+ornament,) imparts a grace and softness to a faded face, and renders
+less conspicuous the inroads of time. A decidedly old lady, persisting
+in going with her head uncovered, is a pitiable object, and scarcely
+looks respectable. Worse still, when she takes to an auburn wig. Gray
+hair is seldom unbecoming to a man. To a woman it gives a masculine
+aspect, especially if worn without a cap; and if there is an attempt at
+long gray locks, or ringlets, the effect is strange, wild and ghastly.
+It is far more becoming for an elderly lady to give a dark shade to her
+temples, and the upper part of her forehead, by a plain, simple, and
+becoming dark-coloured braid, not intended to pass as her natural hair,
+(for it never does,) but merely that the face should be set off by a due
+proportion of shadow,&mdash;and not be all light or lightish. If a decidedly
+old lady prefers wearing her own gray hair, let her part it smoothly on
+her forehead, but make no attempt at curls, and be sure to add a cap to
+it. An elderly female should, as we have said, <i>always</i> wear a cap; and
+her cap should have tabs or broad strings to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> tie under her chin. There
+is no use or beauty in a lady looking older than is necessary, by
+wearing a short-eared or round-eared cap, set back from her head, and
+exposing all her cheeks even beyond her ears, with the crease in her
+chin, and the deep furrows or wrinkles on each side of her neck&mdash;all
+which can be concealed by bringing forward the bow of her cap tabs.</p>
+
+<p>Let all ladies, old and young, avoid having their caps trimmed with
+ribbons or flowers of what are called high-colours; deep, heavy pinks
+and blues, and reddish lilacs. These colours vulgarize every thing they
+are intended to decorate. High-coloured ribbons, flowered or figured,
+are decidedly vulgar.</p>
+
+<p>A profusion of jewels at a public table is in very bad taste,
+particularly if the jewellery is palpably false&mdash;for instance, a large
+brooch with great mock diamonds, or a string of wax beads meant for
+pearls. Still worse, glass things imitating topazes or garnets&mdash;or two
+or three gilt bracelets on one arm. A <i>large</i> imitation gem always
+betrays its real quality by its size.</p>
+
+<p>Endeavour to make your arrangements so as to be dressed for dinner, and
+seated in the ladies' drawing-room, about ten or fifteen minutes before
+the dining-hour, that you may be ready to go in with the rest of the
+company.</p>
+
+<p>If you and your party are strangers, recently arrived, do not at once
+take the lead, and walk up to the head of the table, regardless of
+dislodging and causing inconvenience among the regular boarders, to whom
+those seats have been allotted. But desire a servant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> to show you a
+place. The head-waiter is usually at hand to arrange seats for the
+strangers, and he will attend to you. Persons not accustomed to hotels,
+frequently show a great craving for the seats near the head of the
+table. This is foolish. There are no places of honour; neither are the
+eatables better at one part of the table than another.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody "sits below the salt." And every one has an equal chance of
+obtaining a share of the nicest articles on the table. What is most
+desirable is to have a seat in the vicinity of agreeable people, and you
+will more frequently find them about the middle, or lower end of the
+table, than at the top&mdash;that being the place usually most coveted by the
+least genteel of the guests. We have seen the Chief Magistrate of the
+Union, "the ruler of millions," simply take a seat near the door, at the
+lower end of a hotel-table, in Philadelphia, having arrived
+unexpectedly.</p>
+
+<p>As we have said before, we perceive not the propriety or the convenience
+of a large party of strangers, on entering in a body, pertinaciously
+making their way to the upper end of the table, with a determination to
+obtain seats all in a row; as if the whole row together could join in
+the same conversation, or even <i>see</i> each other, when they sit on the
+same side.</p>
+
+<p>In seating yourself, look down for a moment to see if you have placed
+the foot of your chair on the dress of the lady sitting next to you; and
+if you have done so, remove it immediately, that her dress may be in no
+danger of tearing when she attempts to rise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> Sit close to the table,
+but never lean your elbows upon it. To sit far from it, and reach out
+distantly, is very awkward. Having unfolded your napkin, secure it to
+your belt with a pin, to prevent its slipping down from your lap, and
+falling under the table. This may be done so that the pinning will not
+be perceptible. Bring with you a spare pin or two for this purpose,&mdash;or
+keep always a pincushion in your pocket. It is much better than to incur
+the risk of getting your dress greased or stained by the napkin
+deserting your lap. If such accidents <i>should</i> happen, pass them over
+slightly, and do not lose your temper. For the present, wipe the spot
+with your napkin, and dip the corner in water, and rub it lightly over
+the grease-mark. When dinner is over, you can finish repairing the
+injury in your own room. The coloured waiters are generally very clever
+at removing grease-spots from dresses. One of them will do it for you
+after dinner. The stain of wine or fruit may in most cases be taken out
+of a washable article by laying it immediately in cold water.</p>
+
+<p>To eat in gloves or mittens was always foolish; fortunately it is no
+longer fashionable; but greatly the contrary.</p>
+
+<p>Refrain from loud talking, or loud laughing. Young ladies truly genteel
+are never conspicuously noisy at a public table, or anywhere else. Still
+more carefully refrain from whispering, or exchanging significant
+glances. Whispers are always overheard, (even when the vulgar precaution
+is taken of screening your mouth with your hand,) and glances are
+always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> observed.<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> Joggings, nudgings, pinchings, sleeve-pullings, &amp;c.
+are excessively unlady-like, and shamefully impudent when (as is often
+the case) the eye of the jogger is fixed upon the object of the jog. To
+put up an eye-glass at the face of a stranger, is very rude. So it is to
+make remarks in French.</p>
+
+<p>When eating fish, first remove the bones carefully, and lay them on the
+edge of your plate. Then with your fork in your right hand, (the concave
+or hollow side held uppermost,) and a small piece of bread in your left,
+take up the flakes of fish. Servants, and all other persons, should be
+taught that the butter-sauce should not be <i>poured over</i> the fish, but
+put on one side of the plate, that the eater may use it profusely or
+sparingly, according to taste, and be enabled to mix it conveniently
+with the sauce from the fish-castors. Pouring butter-sauce <i>over</i> any
+thing is now ungenteel.</p>
+
+<p>Do not attempt removing a cover from a dish, that you may help yourself
+before the rest of the company. Leave all that to the waiters. Tell them
+what you want in a distinct, but not in a loud, conspicuous voice. In
+asking a servant to bring you a thing, add not the useless and senseless
+words "<i>will</i> you?" for instance, "Bring me the bread, will you?"&mdash;"Give
+me some water, will you?" Of course he will. Has he the
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
+option of refusing? How you would be startled were he to answer, "<i>I
+will not</i>." It is well always to say, even to servants, "I will thank
+you for the bread,&mdash;or the water." If you are a stranger in the house,
+ask, at the beginning, the servant who waits on you to tell you his
+name. This may save you some inconvenience. Where servants are numerous,
+they should always go by their surnames, and be called Wilson, Jackson,
+Thomson, or whatever it may be. This will prevent the confusion arising
+from half a dozen Johns, or as many Williams.</p>
+
+<p>If the waiters are attentive, and in sufficient number, you will have,
+at a <i>good</i> hotel, little or no occasion to help yourself to any thing.
+Do not, under any circumstances, reach across the table, or rise on your
+feet to get at any particular dish you may want. Trouble no one of the
+company; but wait till you see a servant at hand. No man who is a
+gentleman ever puts the ladies in requisition to help him at table.</p>
+
+<p>It is not customary at hotels for ladies to be assiduous in watching and
+supplying the plates of gentlemen. They can take care of themselves.</p>
+
+<p>If in turning to speak to a waiter, you find him in the act of serving
+some one else, say, "<i>When you are at leisure</i>, I will thank you for
+some water,"&mdash;or whatever you may want.</p>
+
+<p>It is selfish to be continually sending out of the room the man who
+waits near you, for the purpose of bringing extra things for yourself.
+Try to be satisfied with what you find on the table, and recollect that
+you are depriving others of his services, while you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> are dispatching him
+back and forward on errands to the kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>Many persons hold silver forks awkwardly, as if not accustomed to them.
+It is fashionable to use your knife only while cutting up the food small
+enough to be eaten with the fork alone. While cutting, keep the fork in
+your left hand, the hollow or concave side downward, the fork in a very
+slanting position, and your fore-finger extended far down upon its
+handle. When you have done cutting up what you are going to eat, lay
+aside your knife, transfer the fork to your right hand, and take a small
+piece of bread in your left. If eating any thing soft, use your silver
+fork somewhat as a spoon, turning up the hollow side that the cavity may
+hold the food. If engaged in talking, do not, meanwhile, hold your fork
+bolt upright, but incline it downward, so as to be nearly on a level
+with your plate. Remember, always, to keep your own knife, fork, and
+spoon out of the dishes. It is an insult to the company, and a disgrace
+to yourself, to dip into a dish any thing that has been even for a
+moment in your mouth. To take butter or salt with your own knife is an
+abomination. There is always a butter-knife and a salt-spoon. It is
+nearly as bad to take a lump of sugar with your fingers.</p>
+
+<p>In eating bread at dinner, break off little bits, instead of putting the
+whole piece to your mouth and biting at it.</p>
+
+<p>No lady looks worse than when gnawing a bone, even of game or poultry.
+Few <i>ladies</i> do it. In fact, nothing should be sucked or gnawed in
+public; neither<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> corn bitten off from the cob, nor melon nibbled from
+the rind.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> It is very ungraceful to eat an orange at table, unless,
+having cut a bit off the top, you eat the inside with a
+tea-spoon&mdash;otherwise reserve it for the privacy of your own room. Always
+pare apples and peaches; and crack no nuts with your teeth. In eating
+cherries, put your half-closed hand before your mouth to receive the
+stones; then lay them on one side of your plate. To spit out the stones
+one at a time as you proceed with the cherries is very ungenteel. Get
+rid of plumb-stones in the same manner.</p>
+
+<p>Do not eat incongruous and unsuitable things from the same plate,
+telling the waiter that "he need not change it, as it will do very
+well." The washing of a plate (more or less) is no object whatever in a
+large establishment, and it is expected that the guests will have clean
+ones very frequently.</p>
+
+<p>It is an affectation of ultra-fashion to eat pie with a fork, and has a
+very awkward and inconvenient look. Cut it up first with your knife and
+fork both; then proceed to eat it with the fork in your right hand.</p>
+
+<p>Much of this determined fork-exercise may be considered foolish. But it
+is fashionable.</p>
+
+<p>If a lady wishes to eat lobster, let her request the waiter that attends
+her, to extract a portion of it from the shell, and bring it to her on a
+clean plate&mdash;also to place a castor near her.</p>
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p>
+<p>Novices in lobster sometimes eat it simply with salt, or with vinegar
+only, or with black pepper. This betrays great ignorance of the article.
+To prepare it according to the usual custom,&mdash;cut up, very small, the
+pieces of lobster, and on another plate make the dressing. First, mash
+together some hard-boiled yolk of egg, and some of the red coral of the
+lobster, with a little salt and cayenne. Mix in, with a fork, mustard to
+your taste; and then a liberal allowance of salad-oil, finishing with
+vinegar. Transfer the bits of lobster to the plate that has the
+dressing, and combine the whole with a fork. Lettuce salad is dressed in
+the same manner.</p>
+
+<p>At a public table, a lady should never volunteer to dress salad for
+others of the company. Neither should she cut up a pie, and help it
+round. These things ought only to be done by a gentleman, or a servant.</p>
+
+<p>If a gentleman with whom you are acquainted has dressed a salad, and
+offers the plate to you, take what you want, and immediately return to
+him the remainder; and do not pass it on to persons in your vicinity. It
+is <i>his</i> privilege, and not <i>yours</i> to offer it to others, as he has had
+the trouble of dressing it. And it is just that he should have a portion
+of it for himself, which will not be the case if you officiously hand it
+about to people around you. Leave it to him to dispose of as he pleases.</p>
+
+<p>It was formerly considered ill-manners to refuse to take wine with a
+gentleman. Now that the fortunate increase of temperance has induced so
+many persons to abjure, entirely, the use of all liquors, it is no
+longer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> an offence to decline these invitations. If you have no
+conscientious scruples, and if you are acquainted with the gentleman, or
+have been introduced to him, (not else,) you may comply with his
+civility, and when both glasses are filled, look at him, bow your head,
+and taste the wine. If you are placed between a lady and gentleman who
+are taking wine together, lean back a little that they may see each
+other's faces. It is not customary, in America, for a lady to empty her
+glass,&mdash;or indeed, at a hotel, or boarding-house, to take wine with the
+same gentleman after the first day. Next time he asks, politely refuse,
+simply desiring him to excuse you. If he is a true gentleman, he will
+regard your refusal in its proper light, and not persist. We have often,
+at a public table, regretted to see ladies in the daily practice of
+taking wine with the same gentleman as often as invited. This "daily
+practice" is improper, indelicate, and we will say mean&mdash;for wine is
+expensive, and no lady should every day place herself under the same
+obligation to the same gentleman, even for a single glass. He will not
+respect her the more for doing so. On no consideration let any lady be
+persuaded to take <i>two</i> glasses of champagne. It is more than the head
+of an <i>American</i> female can bear. And she may rest assured that (though
+unconscious of it herself) all present will find her cheeks flushing,
+her eyes twinkling, her tongue unusually voluble, her talk loud and
+silly, and her laugh incessant. Champagne is very insidious; and two
+glasses may throw her into this pitiable condition.</p>
+
+<p>If a stranger whom you do not know, and to whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> you have had no
+introduction, takes the liberty of asking you to drink wine with him,
+refuse at once, positively and coldly, to prove that you consider it an
+unwarrantable freedom. And so it is.</p>
+
+<p>If you are helped to any thing whose appearance you do not like, or in
+which you are disappointed when you taste it, you, of course, at a hotel
+table, are not obliged to eat it. Merely leave it on your plate, without
+audibly giving the reason; and then, in a low voice, desire the waiter
+to bring you something else. It is well, while at table, to avoid any
+discussion of the demerits of the dishes. On the other hand, you may
+praise them as much as you please.</p>
+
+<p>In refusing to be helped to any particular thing, never give as a reason
+that "you are afraid of it," or "that it will disagree with you." It is
+sufficient simply to <i>refuse</i>; and then no one has a right to ask why?
+While at table, all allusions to dyspepsia, indigestion, or any other
+disorders of the stomach, are vulgar and disgusting. The word "stomach"
+should never be uttered at any table, or indeed anywhere else, except to
+your physician, or in a private conversation with a female friend
+interested in your health. It is a disagreeable word, (and so are all
+its associations,) and should never be mentioned in public to "ears
+polite." Also, make no remarks on what is eaten by persons near you,
+(except they are children, and under your own care,) such as its being
+unwholesome, indigestible, feverish, or in any way improper. It is no
+business of yours; and besides, you are not to judge of others by
+yourself. No two constitutions are alike, and what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> is very bad for
+<i>you</i>, may be perfectly innoxious to others. If persons are with you in
+whom you are much interested, and over whom you have influence, and they
+seem inclined to eat what is bad for them, refrain from checking them in
+presence of strangers. Above all, do not open your eyes, and hold up
+your hands, and exclaim against their folly, and want of self-control,
+and predict their certain sufferings from that cause. But if you <i>must</i>
+remonstrate, wait till you have quitted the table, and find yourself
+alone with the delinquent.</p>
+
+<p>Never, while at table, (whether in public or private,) allow yourself to
+talk on painful or disgusting subjects. Avoid all discussions of
+sicknesses, sores, surgical operations, dreadful accidents, shocking
+cruelties, or horrible punishments. A love of such topics, evinces a
+coarse and unfeminine mind. It is rude in gentlemen at any time to
+introduce them before ladies; and a polished man never does so. The
+conversation at table should be as cheerful and pleasant as possible.
+Political and sectarian controversies ought to have no place there.
+Shakspeare truly says, "Unquiet meals make ill digestion."</p>
+
+<p>Avoid the discussion at table of private affairs; either your own, or
+those of other people. Remember that "servants have ears," and
+frequently much more quickness of comprehension and retentiveness of
+memory than is generally supposed. So have children.</p>
+
+<p>Abstain from picking your teeth at table. Notwithstanding that custom
+has allowed this practice in Europe, (even in fashionable society,) it
+is still a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> disagreeable one, and to delicate spectators absolutely
+sickening to behold. Delay it till you are alone, and till you can
+indulge in it without witnesses. We know that it is quite possible to go
+on through a long life, and to have clean teeth, without ever once
+having been <i>seen</i> to pick them; and yet those teeth are really picked
+after every meal.</p>
+
+<p>Should you chance to be extremely incommoded by some extraneous
+substance that has gotten between your teeth, you can remove it
+unperceived, by holding up your napkin or handkerchief before your
+mouth, so as effectually to conceal the process. When you take any thing
+out of your teeth, do not make the persons who are near you sick, by
+laying the disgusting particle on the side of your plate; but conceal it
+immediately. Still, nothing but "sheer necessity" can excuse any
+teeth-picking at table.</p>
+
+<p>We have seen a young <i>lady</i>, at a very fashionable house in one of our
+great cities, pull a dish of stewed oysters close to her, and with a
+table-spoon fish out and eat the oysters one at a time; audibly sipping
+up their liquor from the said dish.</p>
+
+<p>We have seen a young <i>gentleman</i> lift his plate of soup in both hands,
+hold it to his mouth and drink, or rather lap it up. This was at no less
+a place than Niagara.</p>
+
+<p>We have heard of a well-dressed stranger at a great hotel in Boston, who
+having used his own knife for the butter, flew into a violent passion
+with the waiter for respectfully pointing out to him the silver
+butter-knife. Swearing that the knife he had been putting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> in his mouth
+was quite good enough, afterward, for any butter in the world, the
+<i>gentleman</i> flung the silver knife across the table, and broke it
+against the wall. For this exploit he had to pay five dollars.</p>
+
+<p>A man that habitually rises on his feet to reach across the table for a
+dish, and pulls it to himself, instead of desiring the waiter to bring
+it to him, is unworthy the appellation of a gentleman. Ladies, of
+course, cannot be guilty of this abomination; but it is true that they
+sometimes extend their arms entirely too far, in trying to get at
+something which a servant would bring them if asked to do so.</p>
+
+<p>Some persons behave coarsely at a public table because they are
+ignorant, and know no better. Some (far less excusable) are rude because
+they are too selfish to put any restraint on their inclinations, or to
+care for the convenience of others.</p>
+
+<p>Some display, all the time, a vulgar determination to "get the full
+worth of their money." Some, who at a <i>private</i> dinner-table would be
+the most polite people imaginable, lay aside their good manners in a
+<i>public</i> dining-room; regarding a hotel as they would a tavern&mdash;a sort
+of Liberty Hall. And some are insolent by way of "showing their
+consequence,"&mdash;having, in reality, mixed so little with <i>true</i> people of
+consequence, as not to be aware that persons of high station are, with
+few exceptions, entirely free from the assumption of undue importance.</p>
+
+<p>Servants are often very shrewd observers, and they always say that real
+gentlefolks "never take airs." Neither they do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When the finger-glasses are sent round, dip a clean corner of your
+napkin into the water, and wet round your lips with it, but omit the
+disgusting foreign fashion of taking water into your mouth, rinsing and
+gurgling it round, and then spitting it back into the glass. Wait till
+you can give your mouth a regular and efficient washing up-stairs. Dip
+your fingers into the glass, rub them with the slice of lemon, or the
+orange-leaf that may be floating on the surface, and then wipe them on
+the napkin. We have heard of a man who saw finger-glasses for the first
+time in his life, when dining at one of the New York hotels. A slice of
+lemon floating on the top, he took up the bowl and drank the water,
+exclaiming as he set it down&mdash;"Well! if this isn't the poorest lemonade
+I ever tasted!"</p>
+
+<p>On quitting the table, it is not necessary to fold up your napkin.
+Merely lay it on the table near your plate. The napkins will be
+immediately collected by the servants, carried to the laundry, and
+thrown at once into tubs of water, to take out the stains.</p>
+
+<p>When dinner is over, and you see that nearly all the company, except two
+or three, have left the table, it is not well to be one of that two or
+three, and to remain to an indefinite period, loitering over the last
+pickings of a plate of nuts&mdash;nut-picking being always a tedious
+business. The waiters are, by this time, very tired of standing, and
+they (like all other people) are entitled to some consideration of their
+comfort. Even the attraction of a beau drinking his wine beside her,
+ought not to induce a young lady to outstay all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> the company, with the
+pretext of being passionately fond of nuts. She may indulge this passion
+at any time by keeping a bag of them in her own room.</p>
+
+<p>The English travellers who visit America are often right in their
+remarks on many of our customs. And instead of resenting these remarks,
+we might profit by them, and reform.</p>
+
+<p>For instance, it is true that the generality of Americans eat too fast,
+for their own health, and the comfort of those about them; masticating
+their food very slightly, and not allowing themselves time enough to
+enjoy their meals. The French, however, eat faster still, and can
+dispatch a surprising quantity of food in less time than any people in
+the civilized world. If we pattern after either nation in the customs of
+the table, the <i>genteel</i> English are far better models than most of
+their neighbours across the Channel. But the best class of Americans are
+unsurpassed in the essentials of all these observances. The English
+attach too much importance to ceremonies merely conventional, and for
+which there seems no motive but the ever-changing decrees of fashion.
+Yet, on going to England, let every American lady take care to make
+herself acquainted with these ceremonies; for her ignorance of them will
+find no quarter there&mdash;and she need not flatter herself that it will be
+passed over unnoticed.</p>
+
+<p>In most hotels it is not customary to have hot cakes or any warm dishes
+on the tea-table, except in cold weather. We think, in a summer
+afternoon, they can be easily dispensed with, and that ladies might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
+satisfied with sweet cakes, fruit, preserves, and other things more
+delicate, and more suited to the hour, than the hot preparations they
+sometimes call for; and which, by not seeing them on the table, they may
+be assured do not come within scope of the tea-arrangements. It is
+expecting too much to suppose the cook will be willing to mix
+batter-cakes and bake them, or to scorch over the fire with broiling or
+stewing relishes, in a warm summer evening&mdash;or even to make toast,
+except for an invalid. Also, every one should know that a substantial
+meal (including tea and coffee) can generally be had at the nine o'clock
+supper-table. In houses where there is no nine o'clock supper, the
+tea-table is set out with greater profusion and variety.</p>
+
+<p>At hotels, the interval between dinner and tea is usually short; the
+tea-hour being early, that the guests may have ample time to prepare for
+going to places of amusement. Yet there are ladies who, though spending
+all the evening at home, will remain sitting idly in the parlour till
+eight o'clock, (or later still,) keeping the table standing and servants
+waiting in attendance, that they may have a better appetite, and be able
+to make a heartier meal at their tea. This is selfish and inconsiderate,
+particularly as they might easily wait a little longer, and take their
+tea or coffee at the supper-table. Their appetites would then be still
+better. The servants certainly require rest, and should be exempt from
+all attendance in the ladies' eating-room, for an hour or two in the
+evening.</p>
+
+<p>No lady can remain long in the drawing-room<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> talking to a gentleman
+after all the rest have retired for the night, without subjecting
+herself to remarks which it would greatly annoy her to hear&mdash;whether
+merited or not. Neither is it well for her to be seen continually
+sitting at the same window with the same gentleman.</p>
+
+<p>Ladies and gentlemen who wish to hold private dialogues, should not for
+that purpose monopolize a centre-table; thereby preventing persons who
+wish to read from availing themselves of the light of the chandelier
+above it. Lovers who have proper consideration, (a rare occurrence,)
+always sit as far as possible from the rest of the company, and so they
+should&mdash;unless they can bring themselves to join in general
+conversation. That is, if the lovership is real. In many cases the
+semblance is only assumed to produce effect, and the talk has really
+nothing secret or mysterious about it, and might just as well be uttered
+audibly.</p>
+
+<p>In making acquaintance with a stranger at a hotel, there is no
+impropriety (but quite the contrary) in enquiring of her from what place
+she comes. In introducing yourself give your name <i>audibly</i>; or what is
+still better, if you have a card about you, present that; and she should
+do the same in return. Before you enter into conversation on any subject
+connected with religion, it will be well to ask her to what church she
+belongs. This knowledge will guard you from indulging, inadvertently, in
+sectarian remarks which may be displeasing to her, besides producing a
+controversy which may be carried too far,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> and produce ill-feeling
+between the parties. We have known the mere question, "Have you been to
+church to-day?" when asked of a stranger at a Sunday dinner-table, bring
+on a dialogue of great asperity, and very annoying to the hearers. As it
+cannot possibly concern yourself whether the strangers at a hotel have
+been to church or not, or what church they have visited, omit
+catechising them at table on this or any other religious subject. We
+have never known a clergyman guilty of this solecism in good sense and
+good manners.</p>
+
+<p>When you give a gratuity to a servant&mdash;for instance, to the man who
+waits on you at table, or he that attends your room, or to the
+chambermaid or the errand-boy&mdash;give it at no regular time, but whenever
+you think proper, or find it convenient. It is injudicious to allow them
+to suppose that they are to do you no particular service without being
+immediately paid for it. It renders them mercenary, rapacious, and
+neglectful of other boarders who are less profuse; not reflecting that
+the servants are hired to wait on the company, and are paid wages for
+doing so, by the proprietor of the establishment, and that it is
+therefore their duty to him, and to his guests, to exert themselves so
+to give satisfaction. Still, it is right and customary to pay them extra
+for conveying your baggage up and down stairs when you are departing
+from the house or returning to it. Carrying heavy baggage is very hard
+work even for strong men. If you are a permanent boarder, and from
+ill-health require extra attendance, it is well to give a certain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> sum
+monthly to each of the servants who wait upon you; and then they will
+not expect any thing more, except on extraordinary occasions. And to
+each of them, separately, give the money with your own hand. In short,
+whatever you give to any one, (servants or others,) it is safest, when
+convenient, to bestow it in person. There will then be no mistakes, no
+forgettings, and no temptation to embezzlement.</p>
+
+<p>If you live in Philadelphia, you will find it very convenient, in most
+cases, to send messages by a note with a stamp on it, put into the
+city-post. There is a mail-bag and a letter-box at all hotels, and at
+most of the large boarding-houses. The errand-boy of the hotel carries
+parcels, and takes such messages as require an <i>immediate</i> answer. For a
+distance of any consequence, he will expect from twelve to twenty-five
+cents. For little errands in the immediate neighbourhood, less will
+suffice. When a servant brings you small change, do not tell him to keep
+it. It is giving him the bad habit of expecting it always; and at times
+when you may have occasion, yourself, for that very change. It is the
+worst way of feeing them. On leaving the house, and at Christmas, it is
+customary to give a fee rather larger than usual, to the servants who
+have been your attendants. But as we have said before, give it with your
+own hands.</p>
+
+<p>It is ungenerous and most unjustifiable to bribe the servants to neglect
+other boarders, (whose place is near yours,) for the purpose of their
+bestowing on you a double share of attention. It is taking an undue
+advantage, which in the end will come out badly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>All persons who go to hotels are not able to lavish large and frequent
+gratuities on the servants. But all, for the price they pay to the
+proprietor, are entitled to an ample share of attention from the
+domestics.</p>
+
+<p>It is very mean and unlady-like to gossip secretly with the servants,
+and question them about any of the other guests. Still worse, to repeat
+what they tell you, and give <i>them</i> as authority. Treat them always with
+kindness and civility, but have no confidential and familiar intercourse
+with them. To those you know, it is but common civility to bid good
+morning every day. Coloured people you may always gratify by saying a
+few words to them, now and then, in passing. They value this little
+kindness, and will not presume upon it like those from "the old
+country," who, if treated familiarly, will frequently take liberties,
+and lose all respect for you. Elderly coloured people, (particularly in
+the South,) like much to be called "aunt" or "uncle;" and it degrades no
+white lady to please them by doing so.</p>
+
+<p>In all hotels, it is against the rule to take out of the ladies'
+drawing-room any books that may be placed there for the general
+convenience of the company, such as dictionaries, guide-books,
+directories, magazines, &amp;c. If you borrow a file of newspapers from the
+reading-room, get done with them as soon as you can, lest they should be
+wanted there by the gentlemen; and as soon as you have finished, ring
+for a servant to carry them back.</p>
+
+<p>Be careful, in cold weather, always to shut the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> parlour-doors after
+you. If you think the room too warm, do not throw open either door or
+window, without first enquiring if it will cause inconvenience to any
+one present. It is a good practice to carry a pocket fan even in winter,
+in case you should chance to feel the heat more sensibly than any other
+lady in the room. If the heat of the grate causes you inconvenience,
+enquire if there is any objection to having the blower brought in and
+stood up before it. If not, ring the bell and order it.</p>
+
+<p>If you have an anthracite fire in your chamber, and wish to extinguish
+it on retiring for the night, take the tongs, and lifting off some of
+the largest coals from the top, lay them beneath the grate. Then, with
+the shut-tongs or the poker, make a deep hollow in the centre of the
+fire; raking it into two hills, one on each side, leaving a valley down
+in the middle. It will begin to blacken immediately, and go out in a few
+minutes. If you cannot do this yourself, ring for a servant.</p>
+
+<p>This is <i>the only way</i> to put out an anthracite fire, whether in a grate
+or a stove.&mdash;There is no other. Try it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+
+<h3>SHIP-BOARD.</h3>
+
+
+<p>There are few places where the looks and manners of the company are more
+minutely scanned than on ship-board; and few where the agreeability of a
+lady will be more highly appreciated. There is little or no variety of
+objects to attract attention. The passengers are brought so closely into
+contact with each other, and confined to so small a neighbourhood, or
+rather so many neighbours are crowded into so small a space, that all
+their sayings and doings are noticed with unusual attention, by those
+who are well enough to regard any thing but themselves. Sea-sickness is
+a very selfish malady,&mdash;and no wonder that it is so. Fortunately it is
+less prevalent than formerly, thanks to the improvements in cabin-room,
+ventilation, lodging, food, and many other things connected with
+ocean-travelling. A lady who is not of a bilious or dyspeptic habit, and
+who has taken precautionary medicine a few days before commencing the
+voyage, frequently escapes sea-sickness altogether; or at least gets
+well after the first day or two.</p>
+
+<p>It is best not to be over-officious in offering your aid to the sick
+ladies, unless they are your intimate friends. The stewardess of a
+packet-ship is generally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> all-sufficient; and much more capable of
+attending to their wants than you can be. Sea-sickness renders its
+victims very querulous; and few like to be continually reminded of their
+condition by enquiries too often repeated of&mdash;"How do you find yourself
+now?" "Do you feel any better?" or, "Do you think you could not eat
+something?" To one very much prostrated by the effects of the
+sea-motion, the mere replying to these questions is an additional
+misery. Whatever sympathy you may feel, at the time, for those afflicted
+with the marine malady, remember that it is a disorder which never
+kills, but very frequently cures.</p>
+
+<p>If you are sick yourself, say as little about it as possible. And never
+allude to it at table, where you will receive little sympathy, and
+perhaps render yourself disgusting to all who hear you. At no time talk
+about it to gentlemen. Many foolish common-place sayings are uttered by
+ladies who attempt to describe the horrors of sea-sickness. For instance
+this&mdash;"I felt all the time as if I wished somebody to take me up, and
+throw me overboard." This is untrue&mdash;no human being ever really <i>did</i>
+prefer drowning to sea-sickness.</p>
+
+<p>When the ship is actually in danger, this malady is always frightened
+away; the feelings of the mind entirely overpowering those of the body.</p>
+
+<p>Try to avoid supposing that every fresh gale is a violent storm; but
+confide in the excellence of the ship, and the skill of its navigators.
+Yet, though not afraid yourself, remember that others may be so, and do
+not try to show your courage by indulging in undue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> gayety. Mirth is out
+of place when the sky is overcast with gloom, the wind blowing hard, and
+the waves "running mountains high," and foaming and roaring all round
+the vessel.</p>
+
+<p>If there is truly a violent tempest, and if the danger is real and
+imminent, trust to that Almighty Power who is with you always,&mdash;on the
+sea, and on the land; and silently and fervently implore his protection.</p>
+
+<p>No captain likes to be teazed with importunities concerning the probable
+length of the passage. You may be sure he will do all he can to make it
+as short as possible. In rough weather, refrain from asking, whenever
+you see him, "If there is any danger?" If there really is, he will
+certainly let you know it in time.</p>
+
+<p>Endeavour to live harmoniously with your fellow-passengers. Avoid such
+national allusions as may give offence to the foreigners. If you find
+that any of them are in the frequent practice of sneering at your own
+country, or speaking of it disrespectfully, repress your resentment,
+resort to no recrimination, but refrain from further conversation with
+that individual, and leave him to the gentlemen. If a female foreigner
+is in the habit of gratuitously abusing America, endeavour calmly to
+convince her that her ideas of your country are erroneous. If she will
+not be convinced, (as is most likely, if she is an <i>ungenteel</i>
+Englishwoman,) give up the attempt, and leave her to herself. If you
+have a taste for the ridiculous, you will regard her prejudices and the
+expression of them only as objects of amusement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Avoid all arguments with a woman of irritable disposition, lest you are
+drawn in yourself to defend your opinion too warmly. You will soon find
+whether or not you can convince her, or whether she is likely to
+convince you. And it is worse than useless for both to continue
+protracting the argument, when they know that the opinion of neither
+will be shaken. Also, it is foolish to keep on repeating the same ideas,
+with no change but in a few of the words.</p>
+
+<p>Long and turbulent discussions are peculiarly annoying on ship-board,
+particularly in rainy weather, when for the weary and pent-up audience,
+"there's no door to creep out."</p>
+
+<p>It is certainly advisable for every lady on ship-board to endeavour to
+make herself as agreeable as she can, and not to suppose that all her
+"whims and oddities" will be excused because she is suffering "the pains
+and penalties" of the sea, and is therefore not "a responsible being."
+If free from sickness, a lady may propose or promote many pleasant
+little amusements and occupations; such as playing children's games on
+deck, or taking a part in chess, chequers, and backgammon in the cabin.
+Ladies sometimes form a regular little coterie, for assembling at
+certain hours, and employing themselves in knitting, bead-work,
+light-sewing, &amp;c. while a gentleman reads aloud to them in some
+entertaining book. In the evening, vocal concerts will be an agreeable
+variety, as there are always some persons on board who can sing. And
+when the weather is fine, and the ship steadily laying her course, a
+moonlight dance on deck is delightful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A young lady should improve the opportunity of learning the names of the
+principal parts of the ship. It is a silly boast at the end of the
+voyage, (and yet we have heard such boasts,) to say that you do not know
+the fore-mast from the main-mast; and that you have no idea where the
+mizen-mast is, much less the bow-sprit. And even if a fair damsel should
+be able to distinguish the fore-topsail from the jib, and to know even
+the flying-jib, and have learnt the difference between the compass and
+the quadrant, and the log-line and the lead-line, we opine that "the
+gentlemen" will think none the worse of her; to say nothing of the
+satisfaction it will afford herself to listen with some comprehension to
+talk concerning the ship, and to read understandingly a few of the
+numerous excellent novels that treat of "life on the ocean wave."</p>
+
+<p>If you have, unfortunately, the rude and unamiable habit of laughing
+whenever you see any one get a fall, leave it off when on
+ship-board,&mdash;where falls are of continual occurrence from the rolling of
+the vessel, and the steepness of the stairs. We never could tell why a
+fall, even on the ice, should be regarded as a subject of mirth, when
+the chance is that it may produce a serious hurt, and is always attended
+with some pain or some annoyance at least. Low-bred women always say
+they cannot help laughing at such sights. We think <i>ladies</i> ought always
+to help it, and hasten at once to the relief of the sufferer, to
+ascertain if they are hurt.</p>
+
+<p>Be washed and dressed <i>neatly</i> every day. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> can generally be managed
+with the assistance of the female servants&mdash;even if you <i>are</i> sick.</p>
+
+<p>A piano never sounds well on ship-board&mdash;the cabins are too small, and
+the ceilings too low. To the sick and nervous, (and all who are sea-sick
+become <i>very</i> nervous,) this instrument is peculiarly annoying.
+Therefore be kind enough to spare them the annoyance. You can practise
+when the weather is fine; and the invalids are on deck. Pianos have been
+abolished in many of the finest ships. Such instruments as can be
+carried on deck, and played in the open air, are, on the contrary, very
+delightful at sea, when in the hands of good performers&mdash;particularly on
+a moonlight evening.</p>
+
+<p>In going to England, take with you no American reprints of English
+books, unless you intend leaving them on board the ship. If you attempt
+to land them, they will be seized at the custom-house. American books by
+American authors are <i>not</i> prohibited.</p>
+
+<p>Make no attempt to smuggle any thing. You may be detected and disgraced.
+The risk is too great, and the advantage too little.</p>
+
+<p>When you leave your state-room to sit in the ladies' cabin, do not fall
+to relating the particulars of your sickness, or complaining of the
+smallness of your apartment, the rolling of the ship, or the roughness
+of the waves. These inconveniences are unavoidable, and must always be
+expected in a sea-voyage; and talking about them too much seems to
+magnify their evils.</p>
+
+<p>If there is any deficiency in accommodations or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> attentions, either try
+as well as you can to do without them, or in a kind and considerate
+manner endeavour to obtain them of the servants, if not too
+inconvenient, or against the ship's regulations.</p>
+
+<p>It is very inconsiderate to have things cooked at luncheon time
+purposely for yourself. Ladies who are quite well will sometimes order
+baked apples, stewed prunes, buttered toast, arrow-root, cups of tea or
+coffee, &amp;c.,&mdash;notwithstanding that the lunch-table is always profusely
+spread with a variety of cold articles; and that when dinner is cooking
+at the same time, the small size of the kitchen renders any extra
+preparations very inconvenient to the preparers.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>LETTERS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The practice of enclosing letters in envelopes is now universal;
+particularly as when the letter is single no additional postage is
+charged for the cover. The postage now is in almost every instance
+pre-paid, it being but three cents when paid by the writer, and five if
+left to the receiver. Therefore, none but very poor or very mean people
+send unpaid letters. Letter-stamps for the United States post should be
+kept in a little box on your writing-table. You can get them always by
+sending to the post-office&mdash;from a dollar's worth or more, down to fifty
+or twenty-five cents' worth, at a time. In a second box, keep stamps for
+the city or penny post, which transmits notes from one part of the town
+to another. And in a third, stamps to go on the covers of newspapers.</p>
+
+<p>Sealing with wax is found to be very insecure for letters that are
+carried by steamers into warm climates&mdash;the wax melting with the heat,
+and sticking the letters to each other, so that they cannot be separated
+without tearing. Wafers are better.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It would be very convenient to use the post-office stamp as a seal, but
+the clerks in that establishment charge extra postage for the trouble of
+turning the letter to mark the stamp. This subjects the receiver to the
+payment of two additional cents.</p>
+
+<p>In writing upon business exclusively your own, for instance to make a
+request, to ask for information, to petition for a favour, or to solicit
+an autograph, it is but right not only to pay the postage of your own
+letter, but to enclose a stamp for the answer. This is always done by
+really polite and considerate people. You have no right, when the
+benefit is entirely your own, to cause any extra expense to the receiver
+of the letter&mdash;not even the cost of three cents to pay the postage back
+again. It is enough to tax their time by requiring them to write to you
+and send off the reply. Also, in corresponding with a relative, or very
+intimate friend, to whom even a small expense is of more importance than
+to yourself, you may enclose a stamp for the answer. Do so always in
+writing to poor people. Be careful not to allow yourself to get entirely
+out of post-office stamps. Replenish your stock in time. If the gum on
+the back seems too weak, go over it afresh with that excellent cement,
+"Perpetual Paste." Embossed or bordered envelopes are not often used
+except in notes of ceremony&mdash;or when the acquaintance is slight. The
+same with ornamented note-paper. Intimate friends and relatives use
+paper that is handsome, but plain. Letters of business are generally
+enclosed in yellow or buff-coloured envelopes. Some of these yellow
+envelopes are large enough to contain a folio sheet when folded.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> Notes
+<i>not</i> to be sent by post, are usually sealed with wax&mdash;the seal very
+small. But a <i>small</i> wafer is admissible&mdash;a white one looks best for a
+note. In folding your note or letter, see that it is not too large to go
+into the envelope. It is customary to write the direction on the
+envelope only. Nevertheless, if the letter is to go a long distance by
+post, the envelope may be worn off, or torn off accidentally, or get so
+damaged in the letter-bag as to be rendered illegible. The surest and
+safest way is to put the address on the letter also; or if the sheet is
+full, to find a corner for the direction, either at the beginning or
+end.</p>
+
+<p>We have seen no <i>good</i> letter-paper at less price than twenty-five cents
+per quire; and for that it ought to be <i>very</i> good. If of lower cost,
+you may find it soft and fuzzy, so that the pen will not move freely,
+(the nib wearing out directly,) or so thin that you cannot write on both
+sides of the sheet. In paper, as in most other things, the best is the
+cheapest. If the tint is bluish, the writing will not be so legible as
+on a pure white. The surface should be smooth and glossy. For letter
+writing <i>ruled</i> paper is rarely used, except by children. In writing for
+the press, no other is so convenient. A page of ruled lines to slip
+beneath, is indispensable to those who cannot otherwise write straight.
+They are to be had for a few cents at every stationer's. It is well to
+get three different sizes. If you write a small hand, the lines should
+be closer together than if your writing is large. If you are addressing
+a friend and have much to say, and expect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> to fill the sheet, begin very
+near the top of the first page. But if your letter is to be a short one,
+commence lower down, several inches from the top. If a <i>very</i> short
+letter of only a few lines, begin but a little above the middle of the
+page. Crossing a letter all over with transverse lines is obsolete. It
+is intolerable to read, and there is no excuse for it now, when postage
+is so low, and every body pays their own.</p>
+
+<p>Write the date near the right-hand side of the first page, and place it
+about two lines higher than the two or three words of greeting or
+accosting with which letters usually commence. Begin the first sentence
+a little below those words, and farther toward the right than the lines
+that are to follow. It is well in dating <i>every</i> letter to give always
+your exact residence&mdash;that is, not only the town you live in, but the
+number and street. If your correspondent has had <i>but one</i> notification
+of your present place of abode, she may have forgotten the number, and
+even the street. Your letter containing it may not be at hand as a
+reference, and the answer may, in consequence, be misdirected&mdash;or
+directed in so vague a manner that it will never reach you. We have
+known much inconvenience (and indeed loss) ensue from not specifying
+with the date of <i>each</i> letter the exact dwelling-place of the writer.
+But if it is <i>always</i> indicated at the top of <i>every one</i>, a reference
+to <i>any</i> one of your letters will furnish your proper address. If you
+are in the country, where there are no streets or numbered houses, give
+the name of the estate and that of the nearest post-town;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> also the
+county and state. All this will occupy a long line, but you will find
+the advantage. If your letter fills more than one sheet, number each
+page. Should you have no envelope, leave, on the inside of the third
+page, two blank spaces where the seal is to come. These spaces should be
+left rather too large than too small. Lest you should tear the letter in
+<i>breaking</i> it open, it is best to <i>cut</i> round the seal. We have seen
+letters that were actually illegible from the paleness of the ink. If
+you write from your own house this is inexcusable, as you ought always
+to be <i>well</i> supplied with that indispensable article; and in a city you
+can easily send to a stationer's and buy it. It is still better to make
+it yourself; than which nothing is more easy. The following receipt <i>we
+know, by experience, to be superlative</i>. Try it.</p>
+
+<p>Buy at a druggist's four ounces of the best blue Aleppo nut-galls; half
+an ounce of green copperas; and half an ounce of clean, white
+gum-arabic. These three articles must be pulverized in a mortar. Put
+them into a large, clean, white-ware pitcher, and pour on a quart of
+boiling water. Stir the whole with a stick that will reach to the
+bottom, and set the pitcher in a warm place; covering it lightly with a
+folded newspaper. In about an hour, stir it again very hard; and repeat
+the stirring several times during the day. Let it remain in the pitcher
+several days, or a week, till it becomes an excellent black; the
+blackening will be accelerated by keeping the pitcher in the sun; for
+instance, in a sunny balcony. Stir it, down to the bottom, two or three
+times a day&mdash;always with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> a stick. Use nothing of metal in making this
+ink. When it is very black, and writes well, pour it off carefully from
+the bottom, (which must have rested undisturbed for two or three hours
+previous,) passing it through a funnel into pint-bottles. Before you
+cork them, put into each a large tea-spoonful of brandy, to prevent
+moulding, or a few drops of lavender. A small tea-spoonful of cloves,
+(slightly broken,) placed in the bottom of each bottle, before the ink
+is poured in, will answer the same purpose. Scouring the pitcher with
+soap and sand, after throwing away the dregs of the ink, will completely
+clear off the stains.</p>
+
+<p>Ink-stands should be washed out, before they are filled anew.</p>
+
+<p>There is no ink superior to this in blackness or smoothness. You can
+make it at less than half the cost of that which you buy in the shops.
+It looks blacker the next day after using, and never fades. If it
+becomes rather too thick, dilute it slightly with water, and stir it
+down to the bottom.</p>
+
+<p>Never use <i>blue</i> ink. If the letter chances to get wet, the writing will
+be effaced. Serious losses have resulted from business letters being
+written in blue ink.</p>
+
+<p>If you make a mistake in a word, draw your pen through it, or score it
+so as to be quite illegible, and then interline the correction, placing
+a caret beneath. This will be better than scratching out the error with
+your penknife, and afterward trying to write a new word in the identical
+place; an attempt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> which rarely succeeds, even with the aid of
+pounce-powder, which is pulverized gum-sandarac.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the letter, somewhat lower than your signature, (which
+should be very near the right-hand edge of the page,) add the name and
+address of the person for whom the letter is designed, and to whom it
+will thus find its way, even if the envelope should be defaced, or torn
+off and lost. Write your own name rather larger than your usual hand,
+and put a dot or dash after it.</p>
+
+<p>Some of the ensuing paragraphs are taken (with permission of the
+publisher) from a former work of the author's.</p>
+
+<p>In folding a letter, let the breadth (from left to right) far exceed the
+height. A letter folded tall is ridiculous, and one verging towards
+squareness looks very awkward. It is well to use a folder (or
+paper-knife) to press along the edges of the folds, that they may be
+smooth and straight. If one is looser than another, or if there is the
+slightest narrowing in, or widening out, toward the edge of the
+turn-over, the letter will have an irregular, unsightly appearance.
+Pieces of ruled lines may be so cut that you can slip them under the
+back of a letter after it is folded, and then you will be in no danger
+of writing the direction crooked, or uneven.</p>
+
+<p>Write the name of your correspondent about the middle of the back, and
+very clearly and distinctly. Then give the number and street on the next
+line, a little nearer to the right. Then the town in <i>large</i> letters,
+extending still nearer to the right. If a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> country-town, give next (in
+letters a little smaller) the name of the <i>county</i> in which it is
+situated. This is very necessary, as in some of our states there is more
+than one town of the same name, and "Washingtons" all over the Union.
+Lastly, at the very bottom, and close to the right, indicate the state
+or district by its usual abbreviation,&mdash;for instance, <i>Me.</i> for
+Maine<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a>&mdash;<i>N. H.</i> New Hampshire&mdash;<i>Vt.</i> Vermont&mdash;<i>Mass.</i>
+Massachusetts&mdash;<i>R. I.</i> Rhode Island&mdash;<i>Ct.</i> or <i>Conn.</i> Connecticut&mdash;<i>N.
+Y.</i> New York&mdash;<i>N. J.</i> New Jersey&mdash;<i>Pa.</i> or <i>Penna.</i> Pennsylvania&mdash;<i>Del.</i>
+Delaware&mdash;<i>Md.</i> Maryland&mdash;<i>Va.</i> Virginia&mdash;<i>N. C.</i> North Carolina&mdash;<i>S.
+C.</i> South Carolina&mdash;<i>Ga.</i> or <i>Geo.</i> Georgia&mdash;<i>Ala.</i> Alabama&mdash;<i>Miss.</i>
+Mississippi&mdash;<i>Mo.</i> Missouri&mdash;<i>La.</i> Louisiana&mdash;<i>Tenn.</i> Tennessee&mdash;<i>Ky.</i>
+Kentucky&mdash;<i>O.</i> Ohio&mdash;<i>Ind.</i> Indiana&mdash;<i>Ill.</i> Illinois&mdash;<i>Mich.</i>
+Michigan&mdash;<i>Ark.</i> Arkansas&mdash;<i>Wis.</i> Wisconsin&mdash;<i>Io.</i> Iowa&mdash;<i>Tex.</i>
+Texas&mdash;<i>Flo.</i> Florida&mdash;<i>Cal.</i> California&mdash;<i>Or.</i> Oregon&mdash;<i>Minn.</i>
+Minnesota&mdash;<i>Utah</i>&mdash;<i>D. C.</i> District of Columbia.</p>
+
+<p>To these may be added the abbreviations of the British possessions in
+North America: <i>U. C.</i> Upper Canada&mdash;<i>L. C.</i> Lower Canada&mdash;<i>N. S.</i> Nova
+Scotia&mdash;<i>N. B.</i> New Brunswick&mdash;<i>N. P.</i> New Providence.</p>
+
+<p>In directing a letter to a foreign country, give the whole name, as
+France, Spain, Belgium, England, Ireland, Scotland, &amp;c. We have towns in
+America called after all manner of European towns. For instance,
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
+a letter directed to our Havre-de-Grace, might, if Maryland was not
+designated, find its way to Havre-de-Grace in France; Rome in the state
+of New York might be taken to Rome in Italy,&mdash;York in Pennsylvania to
+York in England, &amp;c. We know an instance of a gentleman directing an
+important letter to Boston, and, forgetting to add <i>Mass.</i> (for
+Massachusetts) at the bottom, the letter actually went from Philadelphia
+to the small town of Boston in Lincolnshire, England. In writing <i>from</i>
+Europe, finish the direction with the words <i>United States of North
+America</i>.</p>
+
+<p>When you send a letter by a private opportunity, (a thing which is
+already almost obsolete since the days of cheap postage,) it will be
+sufficient to introduce very near the lower edge of the left-hand corner
+of the back, simply the name of the gentleman who carries it, written
+small. It is now considered old-fashioned to insert on the back of such
+a letter&mdash;"Politeness of Mr. Smith"&mdash;"Favoured by Mr. Jones"&mdash;"Honoured
+by Mr. Brown." If the letter is to cross the sea, by mail or otherwise,
+write the name of the vessel on the left-hand corner of the outside.</p>
+
+<p>When a letter is to go to New York city, always put the words New York
+<i>in full</i>, (and not N. Y.), written large. Much confusion is caused by
+the name of this state and its metropolis being the same. It has been
+well-suggested that the name of the state of New York should be changed
+to Ontario&mdash;a beautiful change. In directing to any of the towns in the
+state of New York, then put N. Y. after the name of the town, as Hudson,
+N. Y.,&mdash;Syracuse, N. Y., <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>&amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>In sending a letter to the metropolis of the Union, direct for
+Washington, D. C.</p>
+
+<p>In directing to a clergyman, put <i>Rev.</i> (Reverend) before his name. If a
+bishop, <i>Right Reverend</i>. To an officer, immediately after his name put
+U. S. A. for United States Army, or U. S. N. for United States
+Navy&mdash;having preceded his name with <i>Gen.</i>, <i>Col.</i>, <i>Capt.</i>, <i>Lieut.</i>,
+according to his rank.</p>
+
+<p>The title Hon. (Honourable) is always used in directing to a member of
+congress, a member of the cabinet, a judge of the supreme court, an
+ambassador, or the governor of a state. For the Chief Magistrate of the
+Union, you may direct simply to the President of the United States. The
+term "Excellency" is now but little used.</p>
+
+<p>For a gentleman holding a professorship in a university, preface his
+name with <i>Prof.</i> or <i>Professor</i>. The title of "Professor" does not
+really belong to all men who teach any thing, or to every man that
+exhibits a show&mdash;or to mesmerists, and spiritual knockers. Do not give
+it to them.</p>
+
+<p>For sealing letters no light is so convenient as a wax taper in a low
+stand. A lamp, or candle, may smoke or blacken the wax. To seal well,
+your wax should be of the finest quality. Red wax of a bright scarlet
+colour is the best. Low-priced wax consumes very fast; and when melted,
+looks purplish or brownish. When going to melt sealing-wax, rest your
+elbow on the table to keep your hand steady. Take the stick of wax
+between your thumb and finger, and hold it a little above the light, so
+that it barely touches the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> point of the flame. Turn the stick round
+till it is equally softened on all sides. Then insert a little of the
+melted wax <i>under</i> the turn-over part of the letter, just where the seal
+is to come. This will render it more secure than if the sole dependence
+was on the outside seal. Or instead of this little touch of wax, you may
+slip beneath the turn-over a small wafer, either white or of the same
+colour as the wax. Then begin at the outer edge of the place you intend
+for the seal; and move the wax in a circle, which must gradually
+diminish till it terminates in the centre. Put the seal exactly to the
+middle of the soft wax, and press it down hard, but do not screw it
+round. Then withdraw it suddenly. Do not use motto seals unless writing
+to a member of your own family, or to an intimate friend. For common
+service, (and particularly for letters of business,) a plain seal, with
+simply your initials, is best.</p>
+
+<p>For a note always use a very small seal. In addressing one of your own
+family, it is not necessary to follow scrupulously all these
+observances. In writing to persons decidedly your inferiors in station,
+avoid the probability of mortifying them by sending mean, ill-looking
+notes.</p>
+
+<p>Remember also (what, strange to say, some people calling themselves
+ladies seem not to know) that a note commenced in the first person must
+continue in the first person all through. The same when it begins in the
+third person. We have heard of invitations to a party being worded
+thus:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>Mrs. Welford's compliments to Mrs. Marley, and
+requests the pleasure of her company on Thursday
+evening.</p>
+
+<div class="p2">Yours sincerely,<br />
+</div>
+
+<div class="signature">
+<span class="smcap">E. Welford</span>.</div>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>Notes of invitation should always designate both the day of the week and
+that of the month. If that of <i>the month only</i> is specified, one figure
+may perhaps be mistaken for another; for instance, the 13th may look
+like the 18th, or the 25th like the 26th. We know instances where, from
+this cause, some of the guests did not come till the night <i>after</i> the
+party.</p>
+
+<p>There are some very sensible people who, in their invitations, tell
+frankly what is to be expected, and if they really ask but <i>a few</i>
+friends, they at once give the names of those friends, so that you may
+know whom you are to see. If you are to meet no more than can sit round
+the tea-table, they signify the same. If they expect twenty, thirty, or
+forty persons, they say so&mdash;and do not leave you in doubt whether to
+dress for something very like a party, or for a mere family
+tea-drinking.</p>
+
+<p>If it is a decided music-party, by all means specify the same, that
+those who have no enjoyment of what is considered fashionable music, may
+stay away.</p>
+
+<p>Always reply to a note of invitation the day after you have received it.
+To a note on business send an answer the same day. After accepting an
+invitation, should any thing occur to prevent your going, send a second
+note in due time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Do not take offence at a friend because she does not invite you every
+time she has company. Her regard for you may be as warm as ever, but it
+is probably inconvenient for her to have more than a certain number at a
+time. Believe that the omission is no evidence of neglect, or of a
+desire to offend you; but rest assured that you are to be invited on
+other occasions. If you are <i>not</i>, then indeed you may take it as a hint
+that she is no longer desirous of continuing the acquaintance. Be
+dignified enough not to call her to account; but cease visiting her,
+without taking her to task and bringing on a quarrel. But if you <i>must</i>
+quarrel, let it not be in writing. A paper war is always carried too
+far, and produces bitterness of feeling which is seldom entirely
+eradicated, even after apologies have been made and accepted. Still,
+when an offence has been given in writing, the atonement should be made
+in writing also.</p>
+
+<p>Much time is wasted (particularly by young ladies) in writing and
+answering such epistles as are termed "letters of friendship,"&mdash;meaning
+long documents (frequently with crossed lines) filled with regrets at
+absence, asseverations of eternal affection, modest deprecations of your
+humble self, and enthusiastic glorifyings of your exalted correspondent;
+or else wonderments at both of you being so much alike, and so very
+congenial; and anticipations of rapture at meeting again, and
+lamentations at the slow progress of time, till the extatic hour of
+re-union shall arrive&mdash;the <i>postscript</i> usually containing some
+confidential allusion to a lover, (either real or supposed,) and
+perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> a kind enquiry about a real or supposed lover of your friend's.</p>
+
+<p>Now such letters as these are of no manner of use but to foster a
+sickly, morbid feeling, (very often a fictitious one,) and to encourage
+nonsense, and destroy all relish for such true friendship as is good and
+wholesome.</p>
+
+<p>A still worse species of voluminous female correspondence is that which
+turns <i>entirely</i> upon love, or rather on what are called "beaux;" or
+entirely on hate&mdash;for instance, hatred of step-mothers. This topic is
+considered the more <i>piquant</i> from its impropriety, and from its being
+carried on in secret.</p>
+
+<p>Then there are young ladies born with the organ of letter-writing
+amazingly developed, and increased by perpetual practice, who can
+scarcely become acquainted with a gentleman possessing brains, without
+volunteering a correspondence with him. And then ensues a long
+epistolary dialogue about nothing, or at least nothing worth reading or
+remembering; trenching closely on gallantry, but still not quite <i>that</i>;
+affected flippancy on the part of the lady; and unaffected impertinence
+on that of the gentleman, "which serves her right"&mdash;alternating with
+pretended poutings on her side, and half or whole-laughing apologies on
+his. Sometimes there are attempts at moralizing, or criticising, or
+sentimentalizing&mdash;but nothing is ever elicited that, to a third person,
+can afford the least amusement or improvement, or excite the least
+interest. Yet, strange to say, gentlemen have been inveigled into this
+sort of correspondence, even by ladies who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> have made a business of
+afterward selling the letters for publication, and making money out of
+them. And such epistles have actually been printed. We do not suppose
+they have been read. The public is very stubborn in refusing to read
+what neither amuses, interests, or improves&mdash;even when a publisher is
+actually so weak as to print such things.</p>
+
+<p>No young lady ever engages in a correspondence with a gentleman that is
+neither her relative or her betrothed, without eventually lessening
+herself in his eyes. Of this she may rest assured. With some men, it is
+even dangerous for a lady to write a note on the commonest subject. He
+may show the superscription, or the signature, or both, to his idle
+companions, and make insinuations much to her disadvantage, which his
+comrades will be sure to circulate and exaggerate.</p>
+
+<p>Above all, let no lady correspond with a married man, unless she is
+obliged to consult him on business; and from that plain, straight path
+let her not diverge. Even if the wife sees and reads every letter, she
+will, in all probability, feel a touch of jealousy, (or more than a
+touch,) if she finds that they excite interest in her husband, or give
+him pleasure. This will inevitably be the case if the married lady is
+inferior in intellect to the single one, and has a lurking consciousness
+that she is so.</p>
+
+<p>Having hinted what the correspondence of young ladies ought <i>not</i> to be,
+we will try to convey some idea of what it ought. Let us premise that
+there is no danger of <i>any</i> errors in grammar or spelling, and but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> few
+faults of punctuation, and that the fair writers are aware that a
+sentence should always conclude with a period or full stop, to be
+followed by a capital letter beginning the next sentence; and that a new
+paragraph should be allotted to every change of subject, provided that
+there is room on the sheet of paper. And still, it is well to have
+always at hand a dictionary and a grammar, in case of unaccountable
+lapses of memory. However, persons who have read much, and read to
+advantage, generally find themselves at no loss in orthography, grammar,
+and punctuation. To spell badly is disgraceful in a lady or gentleman,
+and it looks as if they had quitted reading as soon as they quitted
+school.</p>
+
+<p>To write a legible and handsome hand is an accomplishment not
+sufficiently valued. And yet of what importance it is! We are always
+vexed when we hear people of talent making a sort of boast of the
+illegibility of their writing, and relating anecdotes of the difficulty
+with which it has been read, and the mistakes made by its decipherers.
+There are persons who affect bad writing, and boast of it, because the
+worst signatures extant are those of Shakspeare, Bonaparte, and Byron.
+These men were great in spite of their autographs, not because of them.
+The caliph Haroun Alraschid, who was well imbued with Arabic learning,
+sent an elegantly written letter to Charlemagne, with a splendid cover
+and seals; not being aware that the European emperor's signature was
+made by dipping his thumb into the ink and giving a smear&mdash;sealing with
+the hilt of his dagger.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The "wording" of your letter should be as much like conversation as
+possible, containing (in a condensed form) just what you would be most
+likely to talk about if you saw your friend. A letter is of no use
+unless it conveys some information, excites some interest, or affords
+some improvement. It may be handsomely written, correct in spelling,
+punctuation, and grammar, and yet stiff and formal in style&mdash;affectedly
+didactic, and therefore tiresome&mdash;or mawkishly sentimental, and
+therefore foolish. It may be refined, or high-flown in words, but flat
+and barren in ideas, containing nothing that a correspondent cares to
+know.</p>
+
+<p>Read over each page of your letter, as you finish it, to see that there
+are no errors. If you find any, correct them carefully. In writing a
+familiar letter, a very common fault is tautology, or a too frequent
+repetition of the same word&mdash;for instance, "Yesterday I received a
+letter from sister Mary, which was the first letter I have received from
+sister since she left." The sentence should be, "Yesterday I received a
+letter from my sister Mary, the first since she left us."</p>
+
+<p>Unless you are writing to one of your own family, put always the pronoun
+"<i>my</i>" before the word "sister." Say also&mdash;"my father," "my mother," and
+not "father," "mother," as if they were also the parents of your
+correspondent.</p>
+
+<p>To end the sentence with the word "left," (for departed,) is awkward and
+unsatisfactory&mdash;for instance, "It is two days since he left." Left what?
+It is one of the absurd innovations that have crept in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> among us of late
+years, and are supposed to be fashionable. Another is the ridiculous way
+of omitting the possessive S in words ending with that letter; for
+instance, "Sims' Hotel" instead of "Sims's Hotel"&mdash;"Jenkins' Bakery" for
+"Jenkins's Bakery." Would any one, in talking, say they had stayed at
+Sims' Hotel, or that they bought their bread at Jenkins' Bakery. This is
+ungrammatical, as it obliterates the possessive case, and is therefore
+indefinite; and moreover, it looks and sounds awkwardly.</p>
+
+<p>Many persons who think themselves good grammarians put on their cards
+"The Misses Brown,"&mdash;"The Misses Smith." Those who <i>really</i> are so,
+write "The Miss Browns"&mdash;"The Miss Smiths"&mdash;the plural being always on
+the substantive, and never on the adjective. Would we say "the whites
+glove" instead of "the white gloves"&mdash;or the "blues ribbon" for the
+"blue ribbons." Does any lady in talking say, "The two Misses Brown
+called to see me?"</p>
+
+<p>It is also wrong to say "two <i>spoons</i>ful," instead of two <i>spoon</i>fuls.
+Thus, "two spoonsful of milk" seems to imply two separate spoons with
+milk in each; while "two spoonfuls of milk" gives the true idea&mdash;one
+spoon twice filled.</p>
+
+<p>Avoid in writing, as in talking, all words that do not express the true
+meaning. We are sorry to say that sometimes even among educated people,
+when attempting smartness or wit, we find a sort of conventional slang
+that has, in truth, a strong tinge of vulgarity, being the wilful
+substitution of bad words or bad phrases for good ones. When we find
+them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> issuing from the lips or the pen of a <i>lady</i>, we fear she is
+unfortunate in a reprobate husband, or brother, from whom she must have
+learnt them. Yet even reprobates dislike to hear their wives and sisters
+talking coarsely.</p>
+
+<p>Unless you know that your correspondent is well versed in French,
+refrain from interlarding your letters with Gallic words or phrases.</p>
+
+<p>Do not introduce long quotations from poetry. Three or four lines of
+verse are sufficient. One line, or two, are better still. Write them
+rather smaller than your usual hand, and leave a space at the beginning
+and end; marking their commencement and termination with inverted
+commas, thus &#8220;  &#8221;.</p>
+
+<p>One of our young relatives when seven or eight years old, tried her hand
+at story-writing. In finishing the history of a naughty girl, much
+addicted to falsehood, the terminating sentence ran thus:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Arabella did not cure herself of this fault; but when she grew up, and
+became an authoress, she never marked her quotations."</p>
+
+<p>If your letter is longer than can be comprised in one sheet, number the
+pages, placing the number near the upper corner. If engaged in a regular
+correspondence on business or other things, or in writing from a foreign
+country to your family at home, number not only the pages, but the
+letter itself, putting that figure in the centre at the top of the first
+page. Thus, if your friend, having received No. 10, finds the next
+letter that comes to hand is No. 12, she will know that No. 11 is
+missing, and will tell you so in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> reply. Keep a memorandum of the
+letters you have sent, that you may know how to number the next. Before
+commencing a long letter, it is well to put down on a slip of paper, a
+list of the subjects you intend to write on.</p>
+
+<p>Unless to persons living in the same house, do not enclose one letter in
+another. And even then, it is not always safe to do so. Let each letter
+be transmitted on its own account, by mail, with its own full direction,
+and its own post-office stamp. We know an instance where the peace of a
+family was entirely ruined by one of its members suppressing enclosed
+letters. Confide to no one the delivery of an important letter intended
+for another person. It is better to trust to the mail, and send a
+duplicate by the next post.</p>
+
+<p>To break the seal of a letter directed to another person is punishable
+by law. To read <i>secretly</i> the letter of another is morally as
+felonious. A woman who would act thus meanly is worse than those who
+apply their eyes or ears to key-holes, or door-cracks, or who listen
+under windows, or look down from attics upon their neighbours; or who,
+in a dusky parlour, before the lamps are lighted, ensconce themselves in
+a corner, and give no note of their presence while listening to a
+conversation not intended for them to hear.</p>
+
+<p>We do not conceive that, unless he authorizes her to do so, (which he
+had best not,) a wife is justifiable in opening her husband's letters,
+or he in reading hers. Neither wife nor husband has any right to entrust
+to the other the secrets of their friends; and letters may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> contain such
+secrets. Unless under extraordinary circumstances, parents should not
+consider themselves privileged to inspect the correspondence of grown-up
+children. Brothers and sisters always take care that their epistles
+shall not be unceremoniously opened by each other. In short, a letter is
+the property of the person to whom it is addressed, and nobody has a
+right to read it without permission.</p>
+
+<p>If you are shown an autograph signature at the bottom of a letter, be
+satisfied to look at <i>that only</i>; and do not open out, and read the
+whole&mdash;unless desired.</p>
+
+<p>Some years ago, in one of our most popular magazines, were several pages
+containing fac-simile signatures of a number of distinguished literary
+women&mdash;chiefly English. We saw an original letter, from a lady, who
+complained that some mischievous person had taken <i>her</i> magazine out of
+the post-office before it reached her, and shamefully <i>scribbled women's
+names</i> in it, disfiguring it so as to render it unfit for binding;
+therefore she desired the publisher to send her a clean copy in place of
+it.</p>
+
+<p>In putting up packets to send away, either tie them round and across,
+with red tape, (sealing them also where the tape crosses,) or seal them
+without any tape. If the paper is strong, the wax good, and the contents
+of the parcel not too heavy, sealing will in most cases be sufficient.
+Twine or cord may cut the paper, and therefore is best omitted. Never
+put up a parcel in newspaper. It looks mean and disrespectful, and will
+soil the articles inside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Keep yourself provided with different sorts and sizes of wrapping-paper.</p>
+
+<p>A large packet requires more than one seal; the seals rather larger than
+for a letter.</p>
+
+<p>Put up newspapers, for transmission, in thin whitish or brownish paper,
+pasting the cover, and leaving one end open. Newspaper-stamps cost but
+one cent, and are indispensable to the transmission of the paper.</p>
+
+<p>Avoid giving letters of introduction to people whose acquaintance cannot
+possibly afford any pleasure or advantage to those whose civilities are
+desired for them, or who have not leisure to attend to strangers.
+Artists, authors, and all other persons to whom "time is money," and
+whose income stops whenever their hands and eyes are unemployed, are
+peculiarly annoyed by the frequency of introductory letters, brought by
+people with whom they can feel no congeniality, and whom they never
+would have sought for. Among the children of genius, but few are in a
+situation to entertain strangers <i>handsomely</i>, as it is called, which
+means, <i>expensively</i>. Many are kept always in straitened circumstances,
+from the incessant demands on their time and attention. And in numerous
+instances, letters are asked and given with no better motive than the
+gratification of idle curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>We advise all persons obtaining an introductory letter to a painter, to
+ascertain, before presenting it, what branch of the art he professes. We
+have been asked whether a certain artist (one of the most distinguished
+in London) painted "figures, flowers, or landscapes." Also, no one
+should presume to request<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> an introduction to an authoress, if they are
+ignorant whether she writes prose or verse. Not that they are expected
+to talk to her, immediately, on literary subjects. Far from it; but if
+they know nothing of her works, they deserve no letter. In America,
+books, or at least newspapers, are accessible to all who can read.</p>
+
+<p>Bores are peculiarly addicted to asking letters of introduction, in
+accordance with their system of "bestowing their tediousness" upon as
+many people as possible. We pity the kind friends from whom these
+missives are required, and who have not courage to refuse, or address
+enough to excuse themselves plausibly from complying.</p>
+
+<p>We have known instances of stupid, vulgar persons, on preparing to visit
+another city, obtaining letters to families of the really highest class,
+and receiving from them the usual civilities, which they knew not how to
+appreciate.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, how pleasant it is, by means of an introductory
+letter, to bring together two kindred spirits, whose personal
+intercourse must inevitably produce mutual satisfaction, who are glad to
+know each other, glad to meet frequently, and grateful to the friend who
+has made them acquainted.</p>
+
+<p>Letters of introduction should not be sealed. To do so is rude, and
+mean. If you wish to write on the same day to the same person, take
+another sheet, write as long an epistle as you please, seal it, and send
+it <i>by mail</i>.</p>
+
+<p>It is best to deliver an introductory letter in person, as the lady or
+gentleman whose civilities have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> been requested in your behalf, may thus
+be spared the trouble of calling at your lodgings, with the risk of not
+finding you at home. This is very likely to happen, if you <i>send</i>
+instead of taking it yourself. If you <i>do</i> send it, enclose a card with
+your residence. Also, it is more respectful to go yourself, than to
+expect them to come to you.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as you are shown into the parlour, send up the letter, and wait
+till the receiver comes to you.</p>
+
+<p>When a letter is brought to you by a private hand, the usual ceremony is
+to defer reading it till the bringer has departed, unless he desires you
+to read it at once, which he will, if it is evidently a short letter. If
+a long one, request him to excuse you a moment while you look at the
+beginning, to see if your correspondent is well.</p>
+
+<p>On farewell cards, it is usual to write with a pencil the letters "t. t.
+l.," "to take leave"&mdash;or "p. p. c.," "pour prendre congé." A lady
+complained to us that an acquaintance of hers, about to leave town, had
+left a card for her with "p. d. a." upon it. Not understanding the
+meaning of these letters, she had applied to a friend for explanation,
+who told her they meant "poor dear adieu." "Now," continued she&mdash;"I
+cannot understand why a mere acquaintance should be so familiar as to
+call me 'poor dear;' why am I a poor dear to her?" We relieved her by
+explaining that "pour dire adieu" was French for "to bid adieu."</p>
+
+<p>To conclude&mdash;let nothing induce you to give a letter of introduction to
+any person whose moral character is disreputable.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>PRESENTS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Having accepted a present, it is your duty, and ought to be your
+pleasure, to let the giver see that you make use of it as intended, and
+that it is not thrown away upon you. If it is an article of dress, or of
+personal decoration, take occasion, on the first <i>suitable</i> opportunity,
+to wear it in presence of the giver. If an ornament for the
+centre-table, or the mantel-piece, place it there. If a book, do not
+delay reading it. Afterward, speak of it to her as favourably as you
+can. If of fruit or flowers, refer to them the next time you see her.</p>
+
+<p>In all cases, when a gift is sent to you, return a note of thanks; or at
+least a verbal message to that effect.</p>
+
+<p>Never enquire of the giver what was the price of her gift, or where she
+bought it. To do so is considered exceedingly rude.</p>
+
+<p>When an article is presented to you for a specified purpose, it is your
+duty to use it for <i>that</i> purpose, and for no other, according to the
+wish of the donor. It is mean and dishonourable to give away a present;
+at least without first obtaining permission from the original giver. You
+have no right to be liberal or generous at the expense of another, or to
+accept a gift with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> a secret determination to bestow it <i>yourself</i> on
+somebody else. If it is an article that you do not want, that you
+possess already, or that you cannot use for yourself, it is best to say
+so candidly, at once; expressing your thanks for the offer, and
+requesting your friend to keep it for some other person to whom it will
+be advantageous. It is fit that the purchaser of the gift should have
+the pleasure of doing a kindness with her own hand, and eliciting the
+gratitude of one whom she knows herself. It is paltry in you to deprive
+her of this pleasure, by first accepting a present, and then secretly
+giving it away as from yourself.</p>
+
+<p>There are instances of women whose circumstances did not allow them to
+indulge often in delicacies, that on a present of early fruit, or some
+other nice thing being sent to them by a kind friend, have
+ostentatiously transferred the gift to a wealthy neighbour, with a view
+of having it supposed that they had bought it themselves, and that to
+<i>them</i> such things were no rarities. This is contemptible&mdash;but it is
+sometimes done.</p>
+
+<p>Making a valuable present to a rich person is in most cases, a work of
+supererogation; unless the gift is of something rare or <i>unique</i>, which
+cannot be purchased, and which may be seen and used to more advantage at
+the house of your friend than while in your own possession. But to give
+an expensive article of dress, jewellery, or furniture to one whose
+means of buying such things are quite equal (if not superior) to your
+own, is an absurdity; though not a very uncommon one, as society is now
+constituted. Such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> gifts elicit no real gratitude, for in all
+probability, they may not suit the pampered taste of those to whom fine
+things are no novelties. Or they may be regarded (however unjustly) as
+baits or nets to catch, in return, something of still greater cost.</p>
+
+<p>There are persons, who, believing that presents are generally made with
+some mercenary view, and being unwilling themselves to receive favours,
+or incur obligations, make a point of repaying them as soon as possible,
+by a gift of something equivalent. This at once implies that they
+suspect the motive. If sincere in her friendship, the donor of the first
+present will feel hurt at being directly paid for it, and consider that
+she has been treated rudely, and unjustly. On the other hand, if
+compensation <i>was</i> secretly desired, and really expected, she will be
+disappointed at receiving nothing in return. Therefore, we repeat, that
+among persons who can conveniently provide themselves with whatever they
+may desire, the bestowal of presents is generally a most unthankful
+business. If you are in opulent circumstances, it is best to limit your
+generosity to such friends only as do not abound in the gifts of
+fortune, and whose situation denies them the means of indulging their
+tastes. By them such acts of kindness will be duly appreciated, and
+gratefully remembered; and the article presented will have a double
+value, if it is to them a novelty.</p>
+
+<p>Gratitude is a very pleasant sensation, both for those who feel and to
+those who excite it. No one who confers a favour can say <i>with truth</i>,
+that "they want no thanks." They always do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We know not why, when a young lady of fortune is going to be married,
+her friends should all be expected to present her with bridal gifts. It
+is a custom that sometimes bears heavily on those whose condition allows
+them but little to spare. And from that little it may be very hard for
+them to squeeze out enough to purchase some superfluous ornament, or
+some bauble for a centre-table, when it is already glittering with the
+gifts of the opulent;&mdash;gifts lavished on one who is really in no need of
+such things; and whose marriage confers no benefit on any one but
+herself. Why should she be rewarded for gratifying her own inclination
+in marrying the man of her choice? Now that it is fashionable to display
+all the wedding-gifts arranged in due form on tables, and labelled with
+the names of the donors, the seeming necessity of giving something
+expensive, or at least elegant, has become more onerous than ever. For
+instance, poor Miss Cassin can barely afford a simple brooch that costs
+about five dollars; but she strains the utmost capacity of her slender
+purse to buy one at ten dollars, that it may not disgrace the brilliant
+assemblage of jewellery that glitters on the bridal table of her wealthy
+friend Miss Denham. And after all, she finds that her modest little
+trinket looks really contemptible beside the diamond pin given by Mrs.
+Farley the millionaire. After all, she sees no one notice it, and hears
+no one say that it is even neat and pretty. To be sure, the bride, when
+it was sent with a note on the preceding day, did vouchsafe a polite
+answer. But then, if poor Miss C. does not make a wedding present to
+rich Miss D., it might be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> supposed that Miss C. cannot afford it.
+Neither she can. And her making the effort elicits perhaps some
+satirical remarks, that would be very mortifying to Miss Cassin if she
+heard them.</p>
+
+<p>We repeat, that we cannot exactly perceive why, when the union of a
+couple of lovers, in many cases, adds to the happiness, honour, and
+glory of the married pair alone, their friends should think it a duty to
+levy on themselves these contributions; so often inconvenient to the
+givers, and not much cared for by the receivers.</p>
+
+<p>When the young couple are not abounding in what are called "the goods of
+this world," the case is altered; and it may then be an act of real
+kindness for the opulent friends of the bride to present her with any
+handsome article of dress, or of furniture, that they think will be
+acceptable. What we contend is, that on a marriage in a wealthy family,
+the making of presents should be confined to the immediate relatives of
+the lady, and only to such of <i>them</i> as can well afford it.</p>
+
+<p>Much of the money wasted in making ostentatious gifts to brides whose
+fathers have already given them a splendid outfit, might be far better
+employed, in assisting to purchase the <i>trousseaus</i> and the furniture of
+deserving young women in humble life, on their marriage with respectable
+tradesmen or mechanics. How many ladies of fortune have it in their
+power to do this&mdash;yet how seldom it is done!</p>
+
+<p>At christenings, it is fortunately the sponsors only that are expected
+to make gifts to the infant. Therefore,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> invite no persons as sponsors,
+who cannot well afford this expense; unless you are sufficiently
+intimate to request them, privately, not to comply with the custom;
+being unwilling that they should cause themselves inconvenience by doing
+so.</p>
+
+<p>The presentation of Christmas and New-Year's gifts is often a severe tax
+on persons with whom money is not plenty. It would be well if it were
+the universal custom to expect and receive no presents from any but the
+rich.</p>
+
+<p>In making gifts to children, choose for them only such things as will
+afford them somewhat of lasting amusement. For boys, kites, tops, balls,
+marbles, wheelbarrows, carts, gardening utensils, and carpenter's tools,
+&amp;c. Showy toys, that are merely to look at, and from which they can
+derive no enjoyment but in breaking them to pieces, are not worth
+buying. Little girls delight in little tea-sets, and dinner-sets, in
+which they can "make feasts," miniature kitchen-utensils, to play at
+cooking, washing, &amp;c.; and dolls so dressed that all the clothes can be
+taken off and put on at pleasure. They soon grow tired of a doll whose
+glittering habiliments are sewed fast upon her. A wax doll in elegant
+attire is too precarious and expensive a plaything to make them happy;
+as they are always afraid of injuring her. We knew a little girl for
+whom a magnificent wax doll, splendidly dressed, was brought from
+France; and for an hour she was highly delighted. But next morning she
+was found still more happy in carrying about her favourite baby, a
+sofa-pillow, with an old shawl pinned round it for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> frock; feeling
+perfect freedom to toss it about as she pleased. Children like their
+doll-babies to be very substantial, and rather heavy than light. A
+large, well-made <i>rag</i>-doll is for a small child far better than any
+other&mdash;occasionally putting a clean new face upon it.</p>
+
+<p>We have seen country children perfectly satisfied with a doll that was
+nothing but a hard ear of Indian corn, arrayed in a coarse towel pinned
+round it. A little farm-house boy, of three years old, made a pet of a
+large squash, which he dressed in a pocket-handkerchief, and called
+Phebe Ann. We heard him say, as he passed his hand over its lumpy neck,
+"Poor Phebe Ann! what hives she has!"</p>
+
+<p>To an intelligent child, no gifts are so valuable as entertaining
+books&mdash;provided they really <i>are</i> entertaining. Children are generally
+wise enough to prefer an amusing book in a plain cover, to a dull one
+shining with gold. When children are able to read fluently, they lose
+much of their desire for mere picture-books. If the cuts are badly
+executed, and give ugly, disagreeable ideas of the characters in the
+stories, they only trouble and annoy the little readers, instead of
+pleasing them. Some of the most popular juvenile books have no pictures
+inside, and no gilding outside. Bad engravings, (beside uselessly
+enhancing the price,) spoil the taste of the children. We highly
+recommend to the publishers of juvenile books to omit the cuts entirely,
+if they cannot afford very good ones. Many children have better judgment
+in these things than their parents suppose; and some of them more than
+the parents themselves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Children have less enjoyment than is supposed in being taken to shops to
+choose gifts for themselves, or even in laying out their own money. It
+is always a long time before they can decide on what to buy, and as soon
+as they have fixed upon one thing, they immediately see something they
+like better. And often, after getting home, they are dissatisfied with
+their choice, and sorry they bought it. Also, they frequently wear out
+the patience of the shopkeepers; being desirous of seeing every thing,
+and pondering so long before they can determine on buying any thing.</p>
+
+<p>It is every way better to go to the shops without them, buy what you
+think proper, and then give them an agreeable surprise by the
+presentation.</p>
+
+<p>Young ladies should be careful how they accept presents from gentlemen.
+No truly modest and dignified woman will incur such obligations. And no
+gentleman who really respects her will offer her any thing more than a
+bouquet, a book, one or two autographs of distinguished persons, or a
+few relics or mementos of memorable places&mdash;things that derive their
+chief value from associations. But to present a young lady with articles
+of jewellery, or of dress, or with a costly ornament for the
+centre-table, (unless she is his affianced wife,) ought to be regarded
+as an offence, rather than a compliment, excusable only in a man sadly
+ignorant of the refinements of society. And if he is so, she should set
+him right, and civilly, but firmly, refuse to be his debtor.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, we are sorry to say, that there are ladies so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> rapacious, and so
+mean, that they are not ashamed to give broad hints to gentlemen,
+(particularly those gentlemen who are either very young or very old,)
+regarding certain beautiful card-cases, bracelets, essence-bottles, &amp;c.
+which they have seen and admired,&mdash;even going so far as to fall in love
+with elegant shawls, scarfs, splendid fans, and embroidered
+handkerchiefs. And their admiration is so violent, and so reiterated,
+that the gentleman knows not how to resist; he therefore puts them in
+possession of a gift far too costly for any woman of delicacy to accept.
+In such cases, the father or mother of the young lady should oblige her
+to return the present. This has been done.</p>
+
+<p>There are ladies who keep themselves supplied with certain articles of
+finery, (for instance, white kid gloves,) by laying ridiculous wagers
+with gentlemen, knowing that, whether winning or losing, the gentleman,
+out of gallantry, always pays. No lady should ever lay wagers, even with
+one of her own sex. It is foolish and unfeminine&mdash;and no man likes her
+any the better for indulging in the practice.</p>
+
+<p>Some young ladies, who profess a sort of daughterly regard for certain
+wealthy old gentlemen, are so kind as to knit purses or work slippers
+for them, or some other nick-nacks, (provided always that the "dear old
+man" has a character for generosity,) for they know that he will reward
+them by a handsome present of some bijou of real value. And yet they may
+be assured that the kind old gentleman (whom "they mind no more than if
+he was their pa") sees through the whole plan, knows why the purse was
+knit, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> the slippers worked, and esteems the kind young lady
+accordingly.</p>
+
+<p>Another, and highly reprehensible way of extorting a gift, is to have
+what is called a philopena with a gentleman. This very silly joke is
+when a young lady, in cracking almonds, chances to find two kernels in
+one shell; she shares them with a beau; which ever first calls out
+"<i>philopena</i>," on their next meeting, is entitled to receive a present
+from the other; and she is to remind him of it till he remembers to
+comply. So much nonsense is often talked on the occasion, that it seems
+to expand into something of importance; and the gentleman thinks he can
+do no less, than purchase for the lady something very elegant, or
+valuable; particularly if he has heard her tell of the munificence of
+other beaux in their philopenas.</p>
+
+<p>There is great want of delicacy and self-respect in philopenaism, and no
+lady who has a proper sense of her dignity <i>as a lady</i> will engage in
+any thing of the sort.</p>
+
+<p>In presenting a dress to a friend whose circumstances are not so
+affluent as your own, and who you know will gladly receive it, select
+one of excellent quality, and of a colour that you think she will like.
+She will feel mortified, if you give her one that is low-priced, flimsy,
+and of an unbecoming tint. Get an ample quantity, so as to allow a piece
+to be cut off and laid by for a new body and sleeves, when necessary.
+And to make the gift complete, buy linen for the body-lining; stiff,
+glazed muslin for the facings; buttons, sewing-silk, and whatever else
+may be wanted. This will save her the cost of these things.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When you give a dress to a poor woman, it is far better to buy for her a
+substantial new one, than to bestow on her an old thin gown of your own.
+The poor have little leisure to sew for themselves; and second-hand fine
+clothes last them but a very short time before they are fit only for the
+rag-bag.</p>
+
+<p>If you are going to have a party, and among your very <i>intimate</i> friends
+is one whose circumstances will not permit her to incur the expense of
+buying a handsome new dress for the occasion, and if she has no choice
+but to stay away, or to appear in a costume very inferior to that of the
+other ladies, you may (if you can well afford it) obviate this
+difficulty by presenting her with a proper dress-pattern, and other
+accessories. This may be managed anonymously, but it will be better to
+do it with her knowledge. It will be a very gratifying mark of your
+friendship; and she ought to consider it as such, and not refuse it from
+a feeling of false pride. Of course, it will be kept a secret from all
+but yourselves. In the overflow of gratitude <i>she</i> may speak of it to
+others, but for <i>you</i> to mention it would be ungenerous and indelicate
+in the extreme. We are glad to say that ladies of fortune often make
+gifts of party-dresses to their less-favoured friends.</p>
+
+<p>In sending a present, always pay in advance the expense of transmitting
+it, so that it may cost nothing at all to the receiver. You may send by
+the Mail a package of any size, weighing not more than four pounds,
+paying the postage yourself at the office from whence it goes. It will
+then be delivered at the door of your friend, without further charge.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+
+<h3>CONVERSATION.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Conversation is the verbal interchange of thoughts and feelings. To form
+a <i>perfect</i> conversationist, many qualifications are requisite. There
+must be knowledge of the world, knowledge of books, and a facility of
+imparting that knowledge; together with originality, memory, an
+intuitive perception of what is best to say, and best to omit, good
+taste, good temper, and good manners. An agreeable and instructive
+talker has the faculty of going "from gay to grave, from lively to
+serene," without any apparent effort; neither skimming so slightly over
+a variety of topics as to leave no impression of any, or dwelling so
+long upon one subject as to weary the attention of the hearers. Persons
+labouring under a monomania, such as absorbs their whole mind into one
+prevailing idea, are never pleasant or impressive talkers. They defeat
+their own purpose by recurring to it perpetually, and rendering it a
+perpetual fatigue. A good talker should cultivate a temperance in
+talking; so as not to talk too much, to the exclusion of other good
+talkers. Conversation is dialogue, not monologue. It was said of Madame
+de Stael that she did not converse, but delivered orations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>To be a perfect conversationist, a good voice is indispensable&mdash;a voice
+that is clear, distinct, and silver-toned. If you find that you have a
+habit of speaking too low, "reform it altogether." It is a bad one; and
+will render your talk unintelligible.</p>
+
+<p>Few things are more delightful than for one intelligent and well-stored
+mind to find itself in company with a kindred spirit&mdash;each understanding
+the other, catching every idea, and comprehending every allusion. Such
+persons will become as intimate in half an hour, as if they had been
+personally acquainted for years.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, the pleasure of society is much lessened by the habit
+in which many persons indulge, of placing themselves always in the
+opposition, controverting every opinion, and doubting every fact. They
+talk to you as a lawyer examines a witness at the bar; trying to catch
+you in some discrepancy that will invalidate your testimony; fixing
+their scrutinizing eyes upon your face "as if they would look you
+through," and scarcely permitting you to say, "It is a fine day,"
+without making you prove your words. Such people are never popular.
+Nobody likes perpetual contradiction, especially when the subject of
+argument is of little or no consequence. In young people this dogmatic
+practice is generally based upon vanity and impertinence. In the old it
+is prompted by pride and selfishness. We doubt if in the present day the
+talk and manners of Johnson would have been tolerated in really good
+society.</p>
+
+<p>Unless he first refers to it himself, never talk to a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> gentleman
+concerning his profession; at least do not question him about it. For
+instance, you must not expect a physician to tell you how his patients
+are affected, or to confide to you any particulars of their maladies.
+These are subjects that he will discuss only with their relatives, or
+their nurses. It is also very improper to ask a lawyer about his
+clients, or the cases in which he is employed. A clergyman does not like
+always to be talking about the church. A merchant, when away from his
+counting-house, has no wish to engage in business-talk with ladies; and
+a mechanic is ever willing "to leave the shop behind him." Every
+American is to be supposed capable of conversing on miscellaneous
+subjects; and he considers it no compliment to be treated as if he knew
+nothing but what the Scotch call his "bread-winner." Still, there are
+some few individuals who like to talk of their bread-winner. If you
+perceive this disposition, indulge them, and listen attentively. You
+will learn something useful, and worth remembering.</p>
+
+<p>Women who have begun the world in humble life, and have been
+necessitated to give most of their attention to household affairs, are
+generally very shy in talking of housewifery, after their husbands have
+become rich, and are living in style, as it is called. Therefore, do not
+annoy them by questions on domestic economy. But converse as if they had
+been ladies always.</p>
+
+<p>Lord Erskine, having lived a bachelor to an advanced age, finally
+married his cook, by way of securing her services, as she had frequently
+threatened<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> to leave him. After she became Lady Erskine she lost all
+knowledge of cookery, and it was a mortal affront to hint the
+possibility of her knowing how any sort of eatable should be prepared
+for the table.</p>
+
+<p>Never remind any one of the time when their situation was less genteel,
+or less affluent than at present, or tell them that you remember their
+living in a small house, or in a remote street. If they have not moral
+courage to talk of such things themselves, it is rude in you to make any
+allusion to them.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, if invited to a fashionable house, and to meet
+fashionable company, it is not the time or place for you to set forth
+the comparative obscurity of your own origin, by way of showing that you
+are not proud. If <i>you</i> are not proud, it is most likely that your
+entertainers may be, and they will not be pleased at your
+ultra-magnanimity in thus lowering yourself before their aristocratic
+guests. These communications should be reserved for <i>tête-à-têtes</i> with
+old or familiar friends, who have no more pride than yourself.</p>
+
+<p>When listening to a circumstance that is stated to have actually
+occurred to the relater, even if it strikes you as being very
+extraordinary, and not in conformity to your own experience, it is rude
+to reply, "Such a thing never happened to <i>me</i>." It is rude because it
+seems to imply a doubt of the narrator's veracity; and it is foolish,
+because its not having happened to <i>you</i> is no proof that it could not
+have happened to any body else. Slowness in belief is sometimes an
+evidence of ignorance, rather than of knowledge. People who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> have read
+but little, travelled but little, and seen but little of the world out
+of their own immediate circle, and whose intellect is too obtuse to
+desire any new accession to their own small stock of ideas, are apt to
+think that nothing can be true unless it has fallen under their own
+limited experience. Also, they may be so circumstanced that nothing in
+the least out of the common way is likely to disturb the still water of
+their pond-like existence.</p>
+
+<p>A certain English nobleman always listens incredulously when he hears
+any person descanting on the inconveniences of travelling on the
+continent, and relating instances of bad accommodations and bad fare;
+uncomfortable vehicles, and uncomfortable inns; the short beds and
+narrow sheets of Germany; the slow and lumbering diligence-riding of
+France; the garlicky stews of Spain with a feline foundation; the little
+vine-twig fires in the chilly winters of Northern Italy; and various
+other ills, which the flesh of travellers is heir to;&mdash;the duke always
+saying, "Now really <i>I</i> never experienced any of these discomforts, much
+as I have traversed the continent. None of these inconveniences ever
+come in my way." And how should they, when, being a man of enormous
+wealth, he always travels with a cavalcade of carriages; a retinue of
+servants; a wagon-load of bedding and other furniture; a cook, with
+cooking-utensils, and lots of luxurious eatables to be cooked at
+stopping-places&mdash;his body-coach (as it is called) being a horse-drawn
+palace. What inconveniences can possibly happen to <i>him</i>?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When you hear a gentleman speak in praise of a lady whom you do not
+think deserving of his commendations, you will gain nothing by
+attempting to undeceive him; particularly if she is handsome. Your
+dissenting from his opinion he will, in all probability, impute to envy,
+or ill-nature; and therefore the only impression you can make will be
+against yourself.</p>
+
+<p>Even if you have reason to dislike the lady, recollect that few are
+without some good points both of person and character. And it will be
+much better for you to pass over her faults in silence, and agree with
+him in commending what is really commendable about her. What he would,
+perhaps, believe implicitly if told to him by a man, he would attribute
+entirely to jealousy, or to a love of detraction if related by a woman.
+Above all, if a gentleman descants on the beauty of a lady, and in your
+own mind you do not coincide with his opinion, refrain, on your part,
+from criticizing invidiously her face and figure, and do not say that
+"though her complexion may be fine, her features are not regular;" that
+"her nose is too small," or "her eyes too large," or "her mouth too
+wide." Still less disclose to him the secret of her wearing false hair,
+artificial teeth, or tinging her cheeks with rouge. If she is a bold,
+forward woman, he will find that out as soon as yourself, and sooner
+too,&mdash;and you may be sure that though he may amuse himself by talking
+and flirting with her, he in reality regards her as she deserves.</p>
+
+<p>If a foreigner chances, in your presence, to make an unfavourable remark
+upon some custom or habit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> peculiar to your country, do not immediately
+take fire and resent it; for, perhaps, upon reflection, you may find
+that he is right, or nearly so. All countries have their national
+character, and no character is perfect, whether that of a nation or an
+individual. If you know that the stranger has imbibed an erroneous
+impression, you may calmly, and in a few words, endeavour to convince
+him of it. But if he shows an unwillingness to be convinced, and tells
+you that what he has said he heard from good authority; or that, before
+he came to America, "his mind was made up," it will be worse than
+useless for you to continue the argument. Therefore change the subject,
+or turn and address your conversation to some one else.</p>
+
+<p>Lady Morgan's Duchess of Belmont very properly checks O'Donnell for his
+ultra-nationality, and advises him not to be always running a tilt with
+every Englishman he talks to, continually seeming as if ready with the
+war-cry of "St. Patrick for Ireland, against St. George for England."</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Johnson was speaking of Scotland with his usual severity, when a
+Caledonian who was present, started up, and called out, "Sir, <i>I</i> was
+born in Scotland." "Very well, sir," said the cynic calmly, "I do not
+see why so small a circumstance should make any change in the national
+character."</p>
+
+<p>English strangers complain (and with reason) of the American practice of
+imposing on their credulity, by giving them false and exaggerated
+accounts of certain things peculiar to this country, and telling them,
+as truths, stories that are absolute impossibilities;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> the amusement
+being to see how the John Bulls swallow these absurdities. Even General
+Washington diverted himself by mystifying Weld the English traveller,
+who complained to him at Mount Vernon of musquitoes so large and fierce
+that they bit through his cloth coat. "Those are nothing," said
+Washington, "to musquitoes I have met with, that bite through a thick
+leather boot." Weld expressed his astonishment, (as well he might;) and,
+when he "put out a book," inserted the story of the boot-piercing
+insects, which he said <i>must</i> be true, as he had it from no less a
+person than General Washington.</p>
+
+<p>It is a work of supererogation to furnish falsehoods for British
+travellers. They can manufacture them fast enough. Also, it is
+ungenerous thus to sport with their ignorance, and betray them into
+ridiculous caricatures, which they present to the English world in good
+faith. We hope these tricks are not played upon any of the best class of
+European travel-writers.</p>
+
+<p>When in Europe, (in England particularly,) be not over sensitive as to
+remarks that may be made on your own country; and do not expect every
+one around you to keep perpetually in mind that you are an American; nor
+require that they should guard every word, and keep a constant check on
+their conversation, lest they should chance to offend your republican
+feelings. The English, as they become better acquainted with America,
+regard us with more favour, and are fast getting rid of their old
+prejudices, and opening their eyes as to the advantages to be derived
+from cultivating our friendship instead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> provoking our enmity. They
+have, at last, all learnt that our language is theirs, and they no
+longer compliment newly-arrived Americans on speaking English "quite
+well." It is not many years since two young ladies from one of our
+Western States, being at a party at a very fashionable mansion in
+London, were requested by the lady of the house to talk a little
+American; several of her guests being desirous of hearing a specimen of
+that language. One of the young ladies mischievously giving a hint to
+the other, they commenced a conversation in what school-girls call
+<i>gibberish</i>; and the listeners, when they had finished, gave various
+opinions on the American tongue, some pronouncing it very soft, and
+rather musical; others could not help saying candidly that they found it
+rather harsh. But all agreed that it resembled no language they had
+heard before.</p>
+
+<p>There is no doubt that by the masses, better English is spoken in
+America than in England.</p>
+
+<p>However an Englishman or an Englishwoman may boast of their intimacy
+with "the nobility and gentry," there is one infallible rule by which
+the falsehood of these pretensions may be detected. And that is in the
+misuse of the letter H, putting it where it should not be, and omitting
+it where it should. This unaccountable practice prevails, more or less,
+in all parts of England, but is unknown in Scotland and Ireland. It is
+never found but among the middle and lower classes, and by polished and
+well-educated people is as much laughed at in England as it is with us.
+A relative of ours being in a stationer's shop in St. Paul's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> Church
+Yard, (the street surrounding the cathedral,) heard the stationer call
+his boy, and tell him to "go and take the babby out, and give him a
+<i>hairing</i>&mdash;the babby having had no <i>hair</i> for a week." We have heard an
+Englishman talk of "taking an <i>ouse</i> that should have an <i>ot</i> water
+pipe, and a <i>hoven</i>." The same man asked a young lady "if she had <i>eels</i>
+on her boots." We heard an Englishwoman tell a servant to "bring the
+<i>arth</i> brush, and sweep up the <i>hashes</i>." Another assured us that "the
+American ladies were quite <i>hignorant</i> of <i>hetiquette</i>."</p>
+
+<p>We have actually seen a ridiculous bill sent seriously by a Yorkshireman
+who kept a livery-stable in Philadelphia. The items were, <i>verbatim</i>&mdash;</p>
+
+
+<div class="center">
+<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="bill">
+<tr><td align="left">&nbsp;</td><td align="left"><span class="gap">&nbsp;</span></td><td align="right">D.</td><td align="right">C.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">anosafada</td><td align="left"><span class="gap">&nbsp;</span></td><td align="center">2</td><td align="right">50</td></tr>
+<tr><td align="left">takinonimome</td><td align="left"><span class="gap">&nbsp;</span></td><td align="center">0</td><td align="right">37</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p>No reader can possibly guess this&mdash;so we will explain that the first
+line, in which all the words run into one, signifies "An orse af a
+day,"&mdash;or "A horse half a day." The second line means "takin on im
+ome,"&mdash;or "Taking of him home."</p>
+
+<p>English travellers are justly severe on the tobacco-chewing and
+spitting, that though exploded in the best society, is still too
+prevalent among the million. All American ladies can speak feelingly on
+this subject, for they suffer from it in various ways. First, the
+sickening disgust without which they cannot witness the act of
+expectoration performed before their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> faces. Next, the danger of
+tobacco-saliva falling on their dresses in the street, or while
+travelling in steamers and rail-cars. Then the necessity of walking
+through the abomination when leaving those conveyances; treading in it
+with their shoes; and wiping it up with the hems of their gowns. We know
+an instance of the crown of a lady's white-silk bonnet being bespattered
+with tobacco-juice, by a man spitting out of a window in one of the New
+York hotels. A lady on the second seat of a box at the Chestnut-street
+theatre, found, when she went home, the back of her pelisse entirely
+spoilt, by some man behind not having succeeded in trying to spit past
+her&mdash;or perhaps he did not try. Why should ladies endure all this, that
+men may indulge in a vulgar and deleterious practice, pernicious to
+their own health, and which they cannot acquire without going through a
+seasoning of disgust and nausea?</p>
+
+<p>It is very unmannerly when a person begins to relate a circumstance or
+an anecdote, to stop them short by saying, "I have heard it before."
+Still worse, to say you do not wish to hear it at all. There are people
+who set themselves against listening to any thing that can possibly
+excite melancholy or painful feelings; and profess to hear nothing that
+may give them a sad or unpleasant sensation. Those who have so much
+tenderness for themselves, have usually but little tenderness for
+others. It is impossible to go through the world with perpetual sunshine
+over head, and unfading flowers under foot. Clouds will gather in the
+brightest sky, and weeds choke up the fairest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> primroses and violets.
+And we should all endeavour to prepare ourselves for these changes, by
+listening with sympathy to the manner in which they have affected
+others.</p>
+
+<p>No person of good feelings, good manners, or true refinement, will
+entertain their friends with minute descriptions of sickening horrors,
+such as barbarous executions, revolting punishments, or inhuman
+cruelties perpetrated on animals. We have never heard an officer dilate
+on the dreadful spectacle of a battlefield; a scene of which no
+description can ever present an adequate idea; and which no painter has
+ever exhibited in all its shocking and disgusting details. Physicians do
+not talk of the dissecting-room.</p>
+
+<p>Unless you are speaking to a physician, and are interested in a patient
+he is attending, refrain in conversation from entering into the
+particulars of revolting diseases, such as scrofula, ulcers, cutaneous
+afflictions, &amp;c. and discuss no terrible operations&mdash;especially at
+table. There are women who seem to delight in dwelling on such
+disagreeable topics.</p>
+
+<p>If you are attending the sick-bed of a friend, and are called down to a
+visiter, speak of her illness with delicacy, and do not disclose all the
+unpleasant circumstances connected with it; things which it would grieve
+her to know, may, if once told, be circulated among married women, and
+by them repeated to their husbands. In truth, upon most occasions, a
+married woman is not a safe confidant. She will assuredly tell every
+thing to her husband; and in all probability to his mother and sisters
+also&mdash;that is, every thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> concerning her friends&mdash;always, perhaps,
+under a strict injunction of secrecy. But a secret entrusted to more
+than two or three persons, is soon diffused throughout the whole
+community.</p>
+
+<p>A man of some humour was to read aloud a deed. He commenced with the
+words, "Know one woman by these presents." He was interrupted, and asked
+why he changed the words, which were in the usual form, "Know all men by
+these presents." "Oh!" said he, "'tis very certain that all men will
+soon know it, if one woman does."</p>
+
+<p>Generally speaking, it is injudicious for ladies to attempt arguing with
+gentlemen on political or financial topics. All the information that a
+woman can possibly acquire or remember on these subjects is so small, in
+comparison with the knowledge of men, that the discussion will not
+elevate them in the opinion of masculine minds. Still, it is well for a
+woman to desire enlightenment, that she may comprehend something of
+these discussions, when she hears them from the other sex; therefore let
+her listen as understandingly as she can, but refrain from controversy
+and argument on such topics as the grasp of a female mind is seldom
+capable of seizing or retaining. Men are very intolerant toward women
+who are prone to contradiction and contention, when the talk is of
+things considered out of their sphere; but very indulgent toward a
+modest and attentive listener, who only asks questions for the sake of
+information. Men like to dispense knowledge; but few of them believe
+that in departments exclusively their own, they can profit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> much by the
+suggestions of women. It is true there are and have been women who have
+distinguished themselves greatly in the higher branches of science and
+literature, and on whom the light of genius has clearly descended. But
+can the annals of woman produce a female Shakspeare, a female Milton, a
+Goldsmith, a Campbell, or a Scott? What woman has painted like Raphael
+or Titian, or like the best artists of our own times? Mrs. Darner and
+Mrs. Siddons had a talent for sculpture; so had Marie of Orleans, the
+accomplished daughter of Louis Philippe. Yet what are the productions of
+these talented ladies compared to those of Thorwaldsen, Canova,
+Chantrey, and the master chisels of the great American statuaries. Women
+have been excellent musicians, and have made fortunes by their voices.
+But is there among them a Mozart, a Bellini, a Michael Kelly, an Auber,
+a Boieldieu? Has a woman made an improvement on steam-engines, or on any
+thing connected with the mechanic arts? And yet these things have been
+done by men of no early education&mdash;by self-taught men. A good tailor
+fits, cuts out, and sews better than the most celebrated female
+dress-maker. A good man-cook far excels a good woman-cook. Whatever may
+be their merits as assistants, women are rarely found who are very
+successful at the head of any establishment that requires energy and
+originality of mind. Men make fortunes, women make livings. And none
+make poorer livings than those who waste their time, and bore their
+friends, by writing and lecturing upon the equality of the sexes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> and
+what they call "Women's Rights." How is it that most of these ladies
+live separately from their husbands; either despising them, or being
+despised by them?</p>
+
+<p>Truth is, the female sex is really as inferior to the male in vigour of
+mind as in strength of body; and all arguments to the contrary are
+founded on a few anomalies, or based on theories that can never be
+reduced to practice. Because there was a Joan of Arc, and an Augustina
+of Saragossa, should females expose themselves to all the dangers and
+terrors of "the battle-field's dreadful array." The women of the
+American Revolution effected much good to their country's cause, without
+encroaching upon the province of its brave defenders. They were faithful
+and patriotic; but they left the conduct of that tremendous struggle to
+abler heads, stronger arms, and sterner hearts.</p>
+
+<p>We envy not the female who can look unmoved upon physical horrors&mdash;even
+the sickening horrors of the dissecting-room.</p>
+
+<p>Yet women are endowed with power to meet misfortune with fortitude; to
+endure pain with patience; to resign themselves calmly, piously, and
+hopefully to the last awful change that awaits every created being; to
+hazard their own lives for those that they love; to toil cheerfully and
+industriously for the support of their orphan children, or their aged
+parents; to watch with untiring tenderness the sick-bed of a friend, or
+even of a stranger; to limit their own expenses and their own pleasures,
+that they may have something to bestow on deserving objects of charity;
+to smooth the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> ruggedness of man; to soften his asperities of temper; to
+refine his manners; to make his home a happy one; and to improve the
+minds and hearts of their children. All this women can&mdash;and do. And this
+is their true mission.</p>
+
+<p>In talking with a stranger, if the conversation should turn toward
+sectarian religion, enquire to what church he belongs; and then mention
+your own church. This, among people of good sense and good manners, and
+we may add of true piety, will preclude all danger of remarks being made
+on either side which may be painful to either party. Happily we live in
+a land of universal toleration, where all religions are equal in the
+sight of the law and the government; and where no text is more powerful
+and more universally received than the wise and incontrovertible
+words&mdash;"By their fruits ye shall know them." He that acts well is a good
+man, and a religious man, at whatever altar he may worship. He that acts
+ill is a bad man, and has no true sense of religion; no matter how
+punctual his attendance at church, if of that church he is an unworthy
+member. Ostentatious sanctimony may deceive man, but it cannot deceive
+God.</p>
+
+<p>On this earth there are many roads to heaven; and each traveller
+supposes his own to be the best. But they must all unite in one road at
+the last. It is only Omniscience that can decide. And it will then be
+found that no sect is excluded because of its faith; or if its members
+have acted honestly and conscientiously according to the lights they
+had, and molesting no one for believing in the tenets of a different
+church. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> religion of Jesus, as our Saviour left it to us, was one of
+peace and good-will to men, and of unlimited faith in the wisdom and
+goodness, and power and majesty of God. It is not for a frail human
+being to place limits to his mercy, and say what church is the only true
+one&mdash;and the only one that leads to salvation. Let all men keep in mind
+this self-evident truth&mdash;"He can't be wrong whose life is in the right;"
+and try to act up to the Divine command of "doing unto all men as you
+would they should do unto you."</p>
+
+<p>In America, no religious person of good sense or good manners ever
+attempts, in company, to controvert, uncalled for, the sectarian
+opinions of another. No clergyman that is a gentleman, (and they all are
+so, or ought to be,) ever will make the drawing-room an arena for
+religious disputation, or will offer a single deprecatory remark, on
+finding the person with whom he is conversing to be a member of a church
+essentially differing from his own. And if clergymen have that
+forbearance, it is doubly presumptuous for a woman, (perhaps a silly
+young girl,) to take such a liberty. "Fools rush in, where angels fear
+to tread."</p>
+
+<p>Nothing is more apt to defeat even a good purpose than the mistaken and
+ill-judged zeal of those that are not competent to understand it in all
+its bearings.</p>
+
+<p>Truly does the Scripture tell us&mdash;"There is a time for all things." We
+know an instance of a young lady at a ball attempting violently to make
+a proselyte of a gentleman of twice her age, a man of strong sense and
+high moral character, whose church (of which he was a sincere member)
+differed materially from her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> own. After listening awhile, he told her
+that a ball-room was no place for such discussions, and made his bow and
+left her. At another party we saw a young girl going round among the
+matrons, and trying to bring them all to a confession of faith.</p>
+
+<p>Religion is too sacred a subject for discussion at balls and parties.</p>
+
+<p>If you find that an intimate friend has a leaning toward the church in
+which you worship, first ascertain truly if her parents have no
+objection, and then, but not else, you may be justified in inducing her
+to adopt your opinions. Still, in most cases, it is best not to
+interfere.</p>
+
+<p>In giving your opinion of a new book, a picture, or a piece of music,
+when conversing with a distinguished author, an artist or a musician,
+say modestly, that "so it appears to <i>you</i>"&mdash;that "it has given <i>you</i>
+pleasure," or the contrary. But do not positively and dogmatically
+assert that it <i>is</i> good, or that it <i>is</i> bad. The person with whom you
+are talking is, in all probability, a far more competent judge than
+yourself; therefore, listen attentively, and he may correct your
+opinion, and set you right. If he fail to convince you, remain silent,
+or change the subject. Vulgar ladies have often a way of saying, when
+disputing on the merits of a thing they are incapable of understanding,
+"Any how, <i>I</i> like it," or, "It is quite good enough for <i>me</i>."&mdash;Which
+is no proof of its being good enough for any body else.</p>
+
+<p>In being asked your candid opinion of a person, be very cautious to whom
+you confide that opinion; for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> if repeated as yours, it may lead to
+unpleasant consequences. It is only to an intimate and long-tried friend
+that you may safely entrust certain things, which if known, might
+produce mischief. Even very intimate friends are not always to be
+trusted, and when they have actually told something that they heard
+under the injunction of secrecy, they will consider it a sufficient
+atonement to say, "Indeed I did not mean to tell it, but somehow it
+slipped out;" or, "I really intended to guard the secret faithfully, but
+I was so questioned and cross-examined, and bewildered, that I knew not
+how to answer without disclosing enough to make them guess the whole. I
+am very sorry, and will try to be more cautious in future. But these
+slips of the tongue will happen."</p>
+
+<p>The lady whose confidence has been thus betrayed, should be "more
+cautious in future," and put no farther trust in she of the slippery
+tongue&mdash;giving her up, entirely, as unworthy of farther friendship.</p>
+
+<p>No circumstances will induce an honourable and right-minded woman to
+reveal a secret after promising secrecy. But she should refuse being
+made the depository of any extraordinary fact which it may be wrong to
+conceal, and wrong to disclose.</p>
+
+<p>We can scarcely find words sufficiently strong to contemn the heinous
+practice, so prevalent with low-minded people, of repeating to their
+friends whatever they hear to their disadvantage. By low-minded people,
+we do not exclusively mean persons of low station. The low-minded are
+not always "born in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> garret, in a kitchen bred." Unhappily, there are
+(so-called) ladies&mdash;ladies of fortune and fashion&mdash;who will descend to
+meannesses of which the higher ranks ought to be considered incapable,
+and who, without compunction, will wantonly lacerate the feelings and
+mortify the self-love of those whom they call their friends, telling
+them what has been said about them by other friends.</p>
+
+<p>It is sometimes said of a notorious tatler and mischief-maker, that "she
+has, notwithstanding, a good heart." How is this possible, when it is
+her pastime to scatter dissension, ill-feeling, and unhappiness among
+all whom she calls her friends? She may, perhaps, give alms to beggars,
+or belong to sewing circles, or to Bible societies, or be officious in
+visiting the sick. All this is meritorious, and it is well if there is
+some good in her. But if she violates the charities of social life, and
+takes a malignant pleasure in giving pain, and causing trouble&mdash;depend
+on it, her show of benevolence is mere ostentation, and her acts of
+kindness spring not from the heart. She will convert the sewing circle
+into a scandal circle. If she is assiduous in visiting her sick friends,
+she will turn to the worst account, particulars she may thus acquire of
+the sanctities of private life and the humiliating mysteries of the
+sick-chamber.</p>
+
+<p>If indeed it can be possible that tatling and mischief-making may be
+only (as is sometimes alleged) a bad habit, proceeding from an inability
+to govern the tongue&mdash;shame on those who have allowed themselves to
+acquire such a habit, and who make no effort to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> subdue it, or who have
+encouraged it in their children, and perhaps set them the example.</p>
+
+<p>If you are so unfortunate as to know one of these pests of society, get
+rid of her acquaintance as soon as you can. If allowed to go on, she
+will infallibly bring you into some difficulty, if not into disgrace. If
+she begins by telling you&mdash;"I had a hard battle to fight in your behalf
+last evening at Mrs. Morley's. Miss Jewson, whom you believe to be one
+of your best friends, said some very severe things about you, which, to
+my surprise, were echoed by Miss Warden, who said she knew them to be
+true. But I contradicted them warmly. Still they would not be convinced,
+and said I must be blind and deaf not to know better. How very hard it
+is to distinguish those who love from those who hate us!"</p>
+
+<p>Instead of encouraging the mischief-maker to relate the particulars, and
+explain exactly what these severe things really were, the true and
+dignified course should be to say as calmly as you can&mdash;"I consider no
+person my friend, who comes to tell such things as must give me pain and
+mortification, and lessen my regard for those I have hitherto esteemed,
+and in whose society I have found pleasure. I have always liked Miss
+Jewson and Miss Warden, and am sorry to hear that they do not like <i>me</i>.
+Still, as I am not certain of the exact truth, (being in no place where
+I could myself overhear the discussion,) it will make no difference in
+my behaviour to those young ladies. And now then we will change the
+subject, never to resume it. My true friends do not bring me such
+tales."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>By-the-bye, tatlers are always listeners, and are frequently the
+atrocious writers of anonymous letters, for which they should be
+expelled from society.</p>
+
+<p>Let it be remembered that all who are capable of detailing unpleasant
+truths, (such as can answer no purpose but to produce bad feeling, and
+undying enmity,) are likewise capable of exaggerating and
+misrepresenting facts, that do not seem quite strong enough to excite
+much indignation. Tale-bearing always leads to lying. She who begins
+with the first of these vices, soon arrives at the second.</p>
+
+<p>Some prelude these atrocious communications with&mdash;"I think it my duty to
+tell how Miss Jackson and Mrs. Wilson talk about you, for it is right
+that you should know your friends from your enemies." You listen,
+believe, and from that time become the enemy of Miss Jackson and Mrs.
+Wilson&mdash;having too much pride to investigate the truth, and learn what
+they really said.</p>
+
+<p>Others will commence with&mdash;"I'm a plain-spoken woman, and consider it
+right, for your own sake, to inform you that since your return from
+Europe, you talk quite too much of your travels."</p>
+
+<p>You endeavour to defend yourself from this accusation, by replying that
+"having seen much when abroad, it is perfectly natural that you should
+allude to what you have seen."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! but there should be moderation in all things. To be candid&mdash;your
+friend Mrs. Willet says she is tired of hearing of France and Italy."</p>
+
+<p>"Why then does she always try to get a seat next<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> to me, and ask me to
+tell her something more of those countries?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I don't know. People are so deceitful! There is Mr. Liddard, who
+says you bore him to death with talking about England."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet whenever I do talk about England, I always find him at the back
+of my chair. And when I pause, he draws me on to say more."</p>
+
+<p>"Men are such flatterers! Well, I always tell the plain truth. So it is
+best you should know Colonel Greenfield declares that since your return
+from Europe you are absolutely intolerable. Excuse my telling you these
+things. It is only to show that every body else thinks just as I do.
+Mrs. Gray says it is a pity you ever crossed the Atlantic."</p>
+
+<p>Do not excuse her&mdash;but drop her acquaintance as soon as you can, without
+coming to a quarrel, in which case you will most probably get the worst.
+A plain-spoken woman is always to be dreaded. Her cold-blooded
+affectation of frankness is only a pretext to introduce something that
+will wound your feelings; and then she will tell you "that Mrs. A. B. C.
+and D., and Mr. E. and Mr. F. also, have said a hundred times that you
+are a woman of violent temper, and cannot listen to advice without
+flying into a passion."</p>
+
+<p>And she will quietly take her leave, informing you that she is your best
+friend, and that all she has said was entirely for your own good, and
+that she shall continue to admonish you whenever she sees occasion.</p>
+
+<p>A plain-spoken woman will tell you that you were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> thought to look very
+ill at Mrs. Thomson's party, your dress being rather in bad taste; that
+you ought to give up singing in company, your best friends saying that
+your style is now a little old-fashioned; that you should not attempt
+talking French to French ladies, as Mr. Leroux and Mr. Dufond say that
+your French is not quite Parisian, &amp;c. &amp;c. She will say these things
+upon no authority but her own.</p>
+
+<p>When any one prefaces an enquiry by the vulgarism, "If it is a fair
+question?" you may be very certain that the question is a most <i>un</i>fair
+one&mdash;that is, a question which it is impertinent to ask, and of no
+consequence whatever to the asker.</p>
+
+<p>If a person begins by telling you, "Do not be offended at what I am
+going to say," prepare yourself for something that she knows will
+certainly offend you. But as she has given you notice, try to listen,
+and answer with calmness.</p>
+
+<p>It is a delicate and thankless business to tell a friend of her faults,
+unless you are certain that, in return, you can bear without anger to
+hear her point out your own. She will undoubtedly recriminate.</p>
+
+<p>It is not true that an irritable temper cannot be controlled. It can,
+and is, whenever the worldly interest of the <i>enragée</i> depends on its
+suppression.</p>
+
+<p>Frederick the Great severely reprimanded a Prussian officer for striking
+a soldier at a review. "I could not refrain," said the officer. "I have
+a high temper, your majesty, and I cannot avoid showing it, when I see a
+man looking sternly at me." "Yes, you can," replied the king. "I am
+looking sternly at you, and I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> am giving you ten times as much cause of
+offence as that poor soldier&mdash;yet you do not strike <i>me</i>."</p>
+
+<p>A naturally irritable disposition can always be tamed down, by a strong
+and persevering effort to subdue it, and by determining always to check
+it on its first approaches to passion. The indulgence of temper renders
+a man (and still more a woman) the dread and shame of the whole house.
+It wears out the affection of husbands, wives, and children&mdash;of brothers
+and sisters; destroys friendship; disturbs the enjoyment of social
+intercourse; causes incessant changing of servants; and is a constant
+source of misery to that most unhappy of all classes, poor relations.</p>
+
+<p>That a violent temper is generally accompanied by a good heart, is a
+popular fallacy. On the contrary, the indulgence of it hardens the
+heart. And even if its ebullitions are always succeeded by "compunctious
+visitings," and followed by apologies and expressions of regret, still
+it leaves wounds that time cannot always efface, and which we may
+forgive, but cannot forget.</p>
+
+<p>Ill-tempered women are very apt to call themselves nervous, and to
+attribute their violent fits of passion to a weakness of the nerves.
+This is not true. A real nervous affection shows itself "more in sorrow
+than in anger," producing tears, tremor, and head-ache, fears without
+adequate cause, and general depression of spirits&mdash;the feelings becoming
+tender to a fault.</p>
+
+<p>When a woman abandons herself to terrible fits of anger with little or
+no cause, and makes herself a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> frightful spectacle, by turning white
+with rage, rolling up her eyes, drawing in her lips, gritting her teeth,
+clenching her hands, and stamping her feet, depend on it, she is not of
+a nervous, but of a furious temperament. A looking-glass held before
+her, to let her see what a shocking object she has made herself, would,
+we think, have an excellent effect. We have seen but a few females in
+this revolting state, and only three of them were ladies&mdash;but we have
+heard of many.</p>
+
+<p>When the paroxysm is over, all the atonement she can make is to
+apologize humbly, and to pray contritely. If she has really any goodness
+of heart, and any true sense of religion, she will do this promptly, and
+prove her sincerity by being very kind to those whom she has outraged
+and insulted&mdash;and whose best course during these fits of fury is to make
+no answer, or to leave the room.</p>
+
+<p>As out of nothing, nothing can come, to be a good conversationist, you
+must have a well-stored mind, originality of ideas, and a retentive
+memory. Without making a lumber-room of your head, and stuffing it with
+all manner of useless and unnecessary things not worth retaining, you
+should select only such as are useful or ornamental, interesting or
+amusing. Your talk must flow as if spontaneously; one subject suggesting
+another, none being dwelt upon too long. Anecdotes may be introduced
+with much effect. They should be short, and related in such words as
+will give them the most point. We have heard the same anecdote told by
+two persons. With one it became prosy and tiresome, and the point was
+not perceptible from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> its being smothered in ill-chosen words. With the
+other narrator, the anecdote was "all light and spirit; soon told, and
+not soon forgotten." Brevity is the soul of wit, and wit is the soul of
+anecdote. And where wit is wanting, humour is an excellent substitute.
+Every body likes to laugh, or ought to. Yet there is a time for all
+things; and after listening to a serious or interesting incident well
+related, it is exceedingly annoying to hear some silly and heartless
+girl follow it with a ridiculous remark, intended to be funny&mdash;such as
+"Quite solemncolly!"&mdash;or, "We are all getting into the doldrums."</p>
+
+<p>You may chance to find yourself in a company where no one is capable of
+appreciating the best sort of conversation, and where to be understood,
+or indeed to keep them awake, you must talk down to the capacities of
+your hearers. You must manage this adroitly, or they may find you out,
+and be offended. So, after all, it is, perhaps, safest to go on and
+scatter pearls where wax beads would be equally valued. Only in such
+society, do not introduce quotations from the poets, especially from
+Shakspeare, or your hearers may wonder what queer words you are saying.
+Another time, and with congenial companions, you can indulge in "the
+feast of reason, and the flow of soul."</p>
+
+<p>If placed beside a lady so taciturn that no effort on your part can draw
+her out, or elicit more than a monosyllable, and that only at long
+intervals, you may safely conclude that there is nothing in her, and
+leave her to her own dullness, or to be enlivened by the approach of one
+of the other sex. That will make her talk.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Few persons are good talkers who are not extensive and miscellaneous
+readers. You cannot attentively read the best authors without obtaining
+a great command of words, so that you can always, with ease and fluency,
+clothe your ideas in appropriate language.</p>
+
+<p>Knowledge is of course the basis of conversation&mdash;the root whose
+deepened strength and vigour gives life to the tree, multiplicity to its
+branches, and beauty to its foliage.</p>
+
+<p>Much that is bad and foolish in women would have no existence if their
+minds were less barren. In a waste field, worthless and bitter weeds
+will spring up which it is hard to eradicate; while a soil that is
+judiciously cultivated produces abundant grain, luxuriant grass, and
+beautiful flowers.</p>
+
+<p>There are ladies so exceedingly satisfied with themselves, and so
+desirous of being thought the special favourites of Providence, that
+they are always desiring to hold out an idea "that pain and sorrow can
+come not near them," and that they enjoy a happy exemption from "all the
+ills that flesh is heir to." They complain of nothing, for they profess
+to have nothing to complain of. They feel not the cold of winter, nor
+the heat of summer. The temperature is always exactly what <i>they</i> like.
+To them the street is never muddy with rain, nor slippery with ice.
+Unwholesome food agrees perfectly with <i>them</i>. They sleep soundly in bad
+beds, or rather no beds are bad. Travelling never fatigues them. Nobody
+imposes on them, nobody offends them. Other people may be ill&mdash;they are
+always in good health and spirits. To<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> them all books are
+delightful&mdash;all pictures beautiful&mdash;all music charming. Other people may
+have trouble with their children&mdash;<i>they</i> have none. Other people may
+have bad servants&mdash;<i>theirs</i> are always excellent.</p>
+
+<p>Now if all this were true, the lot of such persons would indeed be
+enviable, and we should endeavour to learn by what process such complete
+felicity has been attained&mdash;and why they see every thing through such a
+roseate medium. But it is not true. This is all overweening vanity, and
+a desire "to set themselves up above the rest of the world." We have
+always noticed that these over-fortunate, over-happy women have, in
+reality, a discontented, care-worn look, resulting from the incessant
+painful effort to seem what they are not. And if any body will take the
+trouble, it is very easy to catch them in discrepancies and
+contradictions. But it is not polite to do so. Therefore let them pass.</p>
+
+<p>As mothers are always on the <i>qui vive</i>, (and very naturally,) be
+careful what you say of their children. Unless he is a decidedly
+handsome man, you may give offence by remarking, "The boy is the very
+image of his father." If the mother is a vain woman, she would much
+rather hear that all the children are the very image of herself. Refrain
+from praising too much the children of another family, particularly if
+the two sets of children are cousins. It is often dangerous to tell a
+mother that "little Willy is growing quite handsome." She will probably
+answer, "I had hoped my child was handsome always." With some mothers it
+is especially imprudent to remark that "little Mary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> looks like her
+aunt, or her grandmother." Again, if you prudently say nothing about the
+looks of the little dears, you may be suspected and perhaps accused of
+taking no interest in children. Young ladies, when in presence of
+gentlemen, are too apt to go on the other extreme, and over-act their
+parts, in the excessive fondling and kissing and hugging of children not
+in the least engaging, or even good-looking. We cannot believe that any
+female, not the mother, can really fall into raptures with a cross, ugly
+child. But how pleasant it is to play with and amuse, an intelligent,
+affectionate, and good-tempered little thing, to hear its innocent
+sayings, and to see the first buddings of its infant mind.</p>
+
+<p>When you are visiting another city, and receiving civilities from some
+of its inhabitants, it is an ill requital for their attentions to
+disparage their place, and glorify your own. In every town there is
+something to praise; and in large cities there is a great deal to amuse,
+to interest, and to give pleasure. Yet there are travellers who (like
+Smelfungus) are never satisfied with the place they are in&mdash;who exclaim
+all the time against the east winds of Boston, the sea-air of New York,
+the summer heats of Philadelphia, the hilly streets of Baltimore, and
+the dusty avenues of Washington. We have heard people from New Orleans
+call Philadelphia the hottest city in the Union, and people from Quebec
+call it the coldest. If there are two successive days of rain, then poor
+Philadelphia is the rainiest of all places. If it snows twice in two
+weeks, then it is the snowiest. If a fire breaks<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> out, it is the city of
+fires. If there is an Irish fight in Moyamensing, it is the city of
+perpetual riots. By-the-bye, after that summer when we really had
+several successive riots up-town, and down-town, we saw an English
+caricature of the City of Brotherly Love, where the spirit of William
+Penn, in hat and wig, was looking down sadly from the clouds at the
+rioters, who were all represented as Quakers, in strait, plain clothes,
+and broad brims, knocking each other about with sticks and stones,
+firing pistols, and slashing with bowie-knives. Alas, poor Quakers! how
+guiltless ye were of all this! It is a common belief in England, that of
+this sect are <i>all</i> the people of Pennsylvania.</p>
+
+<p>In talking to an elderly lady, it is justly considered very rude to make
+any allusion to her age; even if she is unmistakeably an old woman, and
+acknowledges it herself. For instance, do not say&mdash;"This silk of yours
+is very suitable for an elderly person"&mdash;or&mdash;"Will you take this
+chair?&mdash;an old lady like you will find it very comfortable"&mdash;or&mdash;"Look,
+baby&mdash;is not that grandma?"&mdash;or&mdash;"I told the servant to attend first to
+you, on account of your age"&mdash;or&mdash;"Children, don't make such a
+noise&mdash;have you no respect for old people?"</p>
+
+<p>All this we have heard.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2>
+
+<h3>INCORRECT WORDS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Every one who sees much of the world must observe with pain and surprise
+various unaccountable instances of improper and incorrect words that
+sometimes disfigure the phraseology of females who have gone through a
+course of fashionable education, and mixed in what is really genteel
+society. These instances, it is true, are becoming every day more rare;
+but we regret that they should exist at all. Early impressions are hard
+to eradicate. Bad habits of speaking are formed in childhood: sometimes
+from the society of illiterate parents, but more frequently from that of
+nurses and servants; and if not corrected or shaken off in due time,
+will cling like burrs to the diction of women who are really ladies in
+every thing else. Such women will say "that there," and "this
+here"&mdash;"them girls"&mdash;"them boys"&mdash;"I don't want no more"&mdash;"I didn't hear
+nothing about it"&mdash;"I didn't see nobody there"&mdash;"I won't do so no more."
+And other similar violations of grammar; and grammar is never more
+palpably outraged than when two negatives are used for an affirmative.
+It is surely shorter and easier to say, "I want no more"&mdash;"I heard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
+nothing about it"&mdash;"I saw nobody there"&mdash;"I will do so no more."</p>
+
+<p>Another grammatical error, less glaring, but equally incorrect, is the
+too common practice of converting a certainty into an uncertainty by
+saying, "I have no doubt but he was there." As if his being there was
+your only doubt. You should say, "I have no doubt of his being there."
+"I have no doubt but that he wrote it," seems to signify that you do
+doubt his writing it, and that you are nearly sure he did not. The
+proper phrase is, "I have no doubt of his writing it." "I do not doubt
+but that she knew it long ago," implies that you do doubt her having
+known it. It should be, "I do not doubt her knowing it long ago." Leave
+out <i>but</i>, when you talk of doubting.</p>
+
+<p>No word is proper that does not express the true meaning. For instance,
+it is not right to call a township a town. A township is a section of
+land that may consist entirely of forests and farms, and may not
+comprise even a small village or hamlet. A town resembles a city in
+being closely built up with streets of adjoining houses. Men cannot go
+fishing or hunting in a <i>town</i>, though they may in a township. We are
+surprised to find this misapplication of the word among some of the most
+distinguished of the New-England <i>literati</i>. Perhaps it explains
+Jonathan's perplexity in one of the old Yankee Doodle songs:</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i0">"He said he couldn't see the town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">There were so many houses."</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>We hope it is not necessary to caution our readers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> against the most
+provincial of Yankee provincialisms, such as, "I hadn't ought," or "I
+shouldn't ought"&mdash;or "It warn't," instead of "It was not"&mdash;or the
+exclamations, "Do tell!" or "I want to know," ejaculated as a token of
+surprise the moment after you have told, and made known. The common
+English habit, or rather a habit of the common English, of using
+continually the words "you know," and <ins title="Transcriber's Note: repetition faithful to original">"you know,"</ins> is very tiresome,
+particularly when they are talking of something that you cannot possibly
+be acquainted with. Check them by saying, "No, I do not know." They also
+make great use of the word "monstrous"&mdash;ugly as that word is. Do not
+imitate them in saying that you are "monstrous glad," or "monstrous
+sorry," or "monstrous tired," or that a young lady is "monstrous
+pretty." We have heard even "monstrous little."</p>
+
+<p>We advise our New-England friends to eschew, both in speaking and
+writing, all Yankee phrases that do not convey the exact meaning of the
+words. For instance, to "<i>turn out</i> the tea," instead of to "<i>pour</i> it
+out." There can be no turn given, in this process, to the spout or
+handle of the tea-pot. On the contrary, it cannot pour well unless it is
+held straight. To "cut the eggs," instead of to beat them. The motion of
+beating eggs does not cut them. "Braiding eggs," is still worse. But we
+believe that this braiding is not the same as cutting. What is it?</p>
+
+<p>Two young officers were travelling in the far West when they stopped to
+take supper at a small road-side tavern, kept by a very rough Yankee
+woman. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> landlady, in a calico sun-bonnet, and bare feet, stood at
+the head of the table to pour out. She enquired of her guests, "if they
+chose long sweetening, or short sweetening in their coffee." The first
+officer, supposing that "long sweetening" meant a large portion of that
+article, chose it accordingly. What was his dismay when he saw their
+hostess dip her finger deep down into an earthen jar of honey that stood
+near her, and then stir it (the finger) round in the coffee. His
+companion, seeing this, preferred "short sweetening." Upon which the
+woman picked up a large lump of maple sugar that lay in a brown paper on
+the floor beside her, and biting off a piece, put it into his cup. Both
+the gentlemen dispensed with coffee that evening. This anecdote we heard
+from the sister of one of those officers.</p>
+
+<p>"Emptyings" is not a good name for yeast. "Up chamber, up garret, down
+cellar," are all wrong. Why not say, "up in the chamber, up in the
+garret, down in the kitchen, down in the cellar" &amp;c.? Why should a
+mirthful fit of laughter be called "a gale"? "Last evening we were all
+in such a gale!"</p>
+
+<p>Snow and ice are not the same. Therefore a snowball should not be called
+an ice-ball, which latter might be a very dangerous missile.</p>
+
+<p>Pincushions are pincushions, and not pin-balls, unless they are of a
+globular shape. If in the form of hearts, diamonds, &amp;c., they are not
+balls.</p>
+
+<p>When you are greatly fatigued, say so&mdash;and not that you are "almost beat
+out." When the Yankees are "beat out," the English are quite "knocked
+up."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> The English are "starved with cold"&mdash;Americans only starve with
+hunger. They may perish with cold; but unless hunger is added, they will
+not starve.</p>
+
+<p>It is wrong to say that certain articles of food are healthy or
+unhealthy. Wholesome and unwholesome are the right words. A pig may be
+healthy or unhealthy while alive; but after he is killed and becomes
+pork, he can enjoy no health, and suffer no sickness.</p>
+
+<p>If you have been accustomed to pronounce the word "does" as "doos," get
+rid of the custom as soon as you can. Also, give up saying "pint" for
+"point," "jint" for "joint," "anint" for "anoint," &amp;c. Above all, cease
+saying "featur, creatur, natur, and raptur."</p>
+
+<p>In New England it is not uncommon to hear the word "ugly" applied to a
+bad temper. We have heard, "He will never do for president, because he
+is so ugly." On our observing that we had always considered the
+gentleman in question, as rather a handsome man, it was explained that
+he was considered ugly in disposition.</p>
+
+<p>A British traveller, walking one day in a suburb of Boston, saw a woman
+out on a door-step whipping a screaming child. "Good woman," said the
+stranger, "why do you whip that boy so severely?" She answered, "I
+<i>will</i> whip him, because he is so ugly." The Englishman walked on; but
+put down in his journal that "American mothers are so cruel as to beat
+their children, merely because they are not handsome."</p>
+
+<p>No genteel Bostonian should call Faneuil Hall, "Old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> Funnel," or talk of
+the "Quinsey market," instead of Quincy, or speak of "Bacon street," or
+"Bacon Hill." That place was so called from a beacon, or signal-pole
+with a light at the top, and never was particularly celebrated for the
+pickling and smoking of pork.</p>
+
+<p>The word "slump," or "slumped," has too coarse a sound to be used by a
+lady.</p>
+
+<p>When you have exchanged one article for another, say so, and not that
+you have "traded it."</p>
+
+<p>Do not say, "I should admire to read that book," "I should admire to
+hear that song," "I should admire to see the president." Substitute, "I
+should like to read that book," "I should like to hear that song," "I
+should like to see the president."</p>
+
+<p>Using the word "love" instead of "like" is not peculiar to the ladies of
+any section of the Union. But they may assure themselves it is wrong to
+talk of <i>loving</i> any thing that is eatable. They may <i>like</i> terrapins,
+oysters, chicken-salad, or ice-cream; but they need not <i>love</i> terrapins
+or oysters, or <i>love</i> chicken-salad.</p>
+
+<p>We remember, in the farce of Modern Antiques, laughing at an awkward
+servant-girl bringing in a dish of salad to a supper-table, before the
+company had assembled, and, after taking a large bite, turning her
+foolish face toward the audience, and saying, "I loves beet-root."</p>
+
+<p>Even if you are a provincial New-Yorker, give up calling the door-step
+or porch by the ancient Dutch name of "stoop," (stoep,) and do not talk
+of going out on the stoop, or sitting in the stoop. When a load of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> wood
+or coal is put down at your door, say not that it is "dumped." Never
+speak of visiting friends that "live to Brooklyn," or "live to Newark."
+They live <i>at</i> those places, not <i>to</i> them. The word "muss" sounds
+badly, when a young lady says, "her scarf is mussed," or her collar is
+"mussed"&mdash;or that her bureau drawers are all in a muss. The English
+synonyme, "mess," has <i>rather</i> a better sound. Be it also remembered
+that a stool is not a bench. A bench holds several people, a stool but
+one.</p>
+
+<p>When you mean that an article of dress (a bonnet or a cap) is neat and
+pretty, do not say that it is cunning. An inanimate object cannot be
+cunning. To be cunning requires some mind. We are sorry to say that we
+have heard females who, when they intend to be witty, talk of taking a
+snooze, (which means a nap,) and speak of a comic anecdote as being
+"rich," and of a man in faded clothes as looking "seedy." We have heard
+Philadelphia ladies speak of a "great big" house, or a "great big" ship;
+and there are still some who <i>expect</i> what has already come to pass&mdash;as,
+"I expect it rained somewhere last night"&mdash;"I expect she arrived
+yesterday"&mdash;"I expect he went to Baltimore." In all these cases the
+proper term is "I suppose," and not "I expect."</p>
+
+<p>The word "mayhap" (instead of perhaps) is a positive vulgarism. It is of
+English origin, but is only used in England by very low people&mdash;and by
+English writers, never.</p>
+
+<p>We have little tolerance for young ladies, who, having in reality
+neither wit nor humour, set up for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> both, and having nothing of the
+right stock to go upon, substitute coarseness and impertinence, (not to
+say impudence,) and try to excite laughter, and attract the attention of
+gentlemen, by talking slang. Where do they get it? How do they pick it
+up? From low newspapers, or from vulgar books? Surely not from low
+companions?</p>
+
+<p>We have heard one of these ladies, when her collar chanced to be pinned
+awry, say that it was put on drunk&mdash;also that her bonnet was drunk,
+meaning crooked on her head. When disconcerted, she was "floored." When
+submitting to do a thing unwillingly, "she was brought to the scratch."
+Sometimes "she did things on the sly." She talked of a certain great
+vocalist "singing like a beast." She believed it very smart and piquant
+to use these vile expressions. It is true, when at parties, she always
+had half a dozen gentlemen about her; their curiosity being excited as
+to what she would say next. And yet she was a woman of many good
+qualities; and one who boasted of having always "lived in society."</p>
+
+<p>We think that gentlemen lose a particle of their respect for young
+ladies who allow their names to be abbreviated into such cognomens as
+Kate, Madge, Bess, Nell, &amp;c. Surely it is more lady-like to be called
+Catharine, Margaret, Eliza, or Ellen. We have heard the beautiful name
+Virginia degraded into Jinny; and Harriet called Hatty, or even Hadge.</p>
+
+<p>A very silly practice has been introduced of writing Sally,
+Sallie&mdash;Fanny, Fannie&mdash;Mary, Marie&mdash;Abby, Abbie, &amp;c. What would our
+grand-parents have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> thought of Pollie, Mollie, Peggie, Kittie, Nancie?
+Suppose young men were to adopt it, and sign themselves, Sammie, Billie,
+Dickie, Tommie, &amp;c.!</p>
+
+<p>By-the-bye, unless he is a relation, let no young lady address a
+gentleman by his Christian name. It is a familiarity which he will not
+like.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2>
+
+<h3>BORROWING.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Any article you are likely to want on more than one occasion, it is
+better to buy than to borrow. If your own, you can have it always at
+hand: you will lay yourself under no obligation to a lender, and incur
+no responsibility as to its safety while in your possession. But when
+you <i>do</i> borrow, see that the article is speedily returned. And, under
+no consideration, take the liberty of lending it to any person whatever,
+before restoring it to the owner. Apologies and expressions of regret
+are no compensation, should it be out of your power to replace it if
+injured or lost.</p>
+
+<p>When you ask to borrow a thing, do not say, "Will you <i>loan</i> it to me?"
+The word "loan" is, by good talkers, and good writers, never used but as
+a substantive: notwithstanding that Johnson gives it as a verb also, but
+only on one obscure authority&mdash;and Johnson is not now regarded as
+infallible. To <i>lend</i>, not to <i>loan</i>, is the usual and proper
+expression. As a substantive it is generally employed in a commercial
+and political sense, or to denote a large sum borrowed for a public and
+important purpose. It is true you can say, "May I request the loan of
+your fan?" "Will you permit me to ask the loan of this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> book?" But it is
+much easier and smoother to say simply, "Will you lend me your fan for a
+few minutes?" "Will you be kind enough to lend me this book?"</p>
+
+<p>No articles, perhaps, are more frequently borrowed than umbrellas, and
+none are returned with so little punctuality. Frequently, a borrowed
+umbrella is never thought of by the borrower, till after the weather
+clears up; the lender, most probably, suffering inconvenience for want
+of it. Often it is detained till the next rain, when the lender has to
+take the trouble of sending for it. And then it is very possible it may
+not be found at all; some person in the mean time having nefariously
+carried it off. In such a case, it is a matter of common honesty for the
+careless borrower to replace that umbrella with a new one; as she is not
+to suppose that empty expressions of regret or unmeaning apologies will
+be sufficient compensation for a substantial loss.</p>
+
+<p>To avoid any difficulties concerning umbrellas, it is safest, in cloudy
+weather, not to leave home without one. Many persons venture out beneath
+a threatening sky, unwilling to encumber themselves with an umbrella,
+which (possibly) they may not chance to require before they got home.
+Their dependance is on stopping in at the house of a friend, and
+borrowing one there. But is it not better to incommode yourself a little
+by carrying a closed umbrella, even if you should <i>not</i> find occasion to
+use it, than to hasten rapidly through the street to reach a shelter
+when you find the rain beginning to drop; and afterwards to deprive your
+friend, even temporarily,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> of an article which the wet weather may
+render it inconvenient to spare. Also, you may be caught by a sudden
+shower, at a considerable distance from the dwelling of the person with
+whom you are acquainted, and you may find the omnibuses all full, (as
+they generally are when it rains,) and no other vehicle in sight.
+Therefore, when the wind is in a rainy quarter, and the sky louring, be
+always on the safe side, and take an umbrella with you on leaving home.</p>
+
+<p>Every lady should own a small light umbrella, or else a very large
+parasol, of extra size, covered with strong India silk that will not
+easily tear or fade, and that may be used, on occasion, for either sun
+or rain; and that will not be cumbrous to carry, though quite large
+enough to shelter <i>one</i> person. In truth, we have found but few
+umbrellas, however large, that could effectually cover <i>two</i> persons
+(unless they were people of very small size) so that the rain did not
+drop upon the off-shoulder of one or the other. You cannot be well
+screened by an umbrella, unless you carry it all the time steadily in
+your <i>own</i> hands, and over yourself alone. And politeness requires that
+you should give your companion the best of the shelter. So when two
+ladies go out together, the clouds portending rain, let each take an
+umbrella for herself, and then much injury to bonnets and shawls may be
+avoided.</p>
+
+<p>These small light umbrellas are excellent to travel with, and especially
+useful in the transit from car to steamboat, or even from the house to
+the carriage. When not in "actual service," keep this umbrella beside
+you with your shawl and your travelling satchel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> It will be useful
+during the journey, if packed away in a trunk.<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></p>
+
+<p>When you purchase an umbrella, desire that, before sending it home, your
+name be engraved on the little plate at the termination of the handle,
+or else on the slide. "To make assurance doubly sure," you may get the
+name painted in full in small white or yellow letters on the <i>inside</i> of
+one of the gores of silk. These letters will not be conspicuous on the
+outside, but they will always serve to identify the umbrella. Your
+residence (if permanent) may be added. When about to travel, sew a small
+card with your address near the bottom of one of the gores inside. This
+card may be changed when staying at a new place. With these precautions,
+and a little care, (unless you are habitually thoughtless and
+forgetful,) you may carry an umbrella from Maine to Florida without
+losing it.</p>
+
+<p>All the members of a family should be provided with at least one
+rain-umbrella of their own, and these should be kept up-stairs when not
+likely to be wanted. There is always great danger of their being
+purloined, or <i>borrowed</i>, if left in the hall. Persons who would not,
+for the world, be known to pilfer a single cent, are by no means
+particular with regard to detaining an umbrella or a book.</p>
+
+<p>Umbrellas for the kitchen can now be had as low as
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
+seventy-five cents, or one dollar. If of coloured cotton (brown or blue)
+and highly glazed, they will turn off a moderate rain very well, but a
+drenching shower may cause the dye or colouring to run in streams. For
+very common use, though higher in price, the best are of oil-cloth, or
+of brown unbleached linen. The handsomest umbrellas are of blue or brown
+India silk, with steel frames, and a small silver name-plate on the
+handle. A green silk umbrella will soon be spoiled by the rain, and none
+look so badly in a short time. We have known a lady's bonnet entirely
+ruined by the drippings from a green parasol, hastily put up as a small
+screen from a sudden shower. No colour stands the sun and damp so badly
+as green.</p>
+
+<p>After borrowing an umbrella, fail not to send it back immediately,
+unless you have previously ascertained from the owner that it will not
+be wanted for two or three hours. In that case, you will have time to
+dry it before it goes home; and this should be done as soon as possible,
+that it may be returned in good order. If left in the entry or hall, it
+may be carried off; or, in plain words, stolen. Let it be dried under
+your own inspection, spreading it wide open, and standing it on the
+floor. If dried fast, and in an expanded position, the wetting will not
+perceptibly injure it. But if left shut and standing up closed, with the
+wet soaking into the umbrella, it will dry in discoloured streaks, and
+be spoiled. If the spring or any other part of a borrowed umbrella gets
+broken or injured while in your possession, be sure to have it repaired
+before sending home. There is a meanness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> verging on dishonesty in
+leaving this to be done by the owner.</p>
+
+<p>If the cheap or common umbrellas are given up to the care of the
+domestics, and kept in the kitchen, in all probability they will soon
+disappear altogether, and be no longer forthcoming when wanted. They
+will lend them to their friends, and lose them in various ways. The
+umbrellas should be kept in some small room or closet up-stairs; and
+when required, the servants should come and ask for them; bringing them
+back when done with, and dried.</p>
+
+<p>When you go out to tea, even in a summer evening, carry a shawl on your
+arm to throw over your shoulders before coming out into the night-air.
+This will preclude the necessity of borrowing one of your friend, should
+the weather have changed and grown cooler. Also, to prevent any risk
+from damp pavements, take with you a pair of over-shoes, (India-rubber,
+of course,) or else a pair of inside-soles, such as you can conveniently
+slip into your pocket. We have found no inside-soles equal to those of
+lamb-skin with the wool left on the upper-side; the under-side of the
+skin being coated with India-rubber varnish to render them water-proof.
+These soles are both warm and dry, and are far pleasanter than cork
+soles covered with flannel, and more lasting. But if you are obliged to
+borrow things to wear home, see that they are sent back next morning, if
+not the same evening, and in good order&mdash;the shawl well-dried from the
+damp, and folded smoothly, and the over-shoes cleaned nicely.</p>
+
+<p>Always take a fan with you on going to a place of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> public amusement. You
+will be sure to require it, and it is better than to depend on fanning
+yourself with the bill or programme, or borrowing the fan of a more
+provident friend, and perhaps forgetting to return it.</p>
+
+<p>With regard to the practice of borrowing articles of household use, it
+is generally a custom "more honoured in the breach than the observance,"
+particularly when living in a place where all such things can be easily
+obtained by sending to the shops. There are persons who, with ample
+means of providing themselves with all that is necessary for domestic
+service, are continually troubling their neighbours for the loan of a
+hammer, a screw-driver, a gimlet, a carpet-stretcher, a bed-stead screw,
+a fluting-iron, a preserving kettle, jelly-moulds, ice-cream freezers,
+&amp;c. &amp;c. If these or any other articles <i>must</i> be borrowed, let them be
+returned promptly, and in good order.</p>
+
+<p>If, in consequence of the unexpected arrival of company, any thing for
+the table is borrowed of a neighbour, such as tea, coffee, butter, &amp;c.,
+see that it is punctually returned; equal in quantity, and in quality;
+or rather superior. Habitual borrowers are very apt to forget this piece
+of honesty, either neglecting to return the things at all, or meanly
+substituting inferior articles&mdash;or perhaps laying themselves under such
+an imputation without actually deserving it, should the lender be
+ill-natured or untruthful. There is a homely proverb, "To go a-borrowing
+is to go a-sorrowing."</p>
+
+<p>We have been told of a very aristocratic but very economical lady, in
+one of our large cities, who was in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> the almost daily practice of
+borrowing things of a neighbour to whom she never condescended to speak.
+On one occasion she borrowed the use of that neighbour's fire to roast a
+pair of fowls.</p>
+
+<p>Avoid borrowing change, or small sums. It is possible that you may
+really forget to repay them; but then it is also possible that you may
+be suspected of forgetting wilfully. So do not trust much to your
+memory. It is a true remark, that there are few instances of a borrower
+being so oblivious as to offer twice over the return of a small loan,
+forgetting that it had been paid already.</p>
+
+<p>In borrowing a dress as a pattern, it is safest not to try it upon
+yourself, lest some part of the body should be stretched or frayed.
+Also, in trying on a bonnet or cap that is not your own, refrain from
+tying the strings; as every tying will give them additional wrinkles or
+rumples, and perhaps somewhat soil them. Never put on another person's
+gloves.</p>
+
+<p>Should you be staying at a boarding-house, do not depend on "the lady in
+the next room," or any other lady, to lend you things which you can
+procure quite as easily as she can. Keep yourself always provided with
+pen, ink, and paper, envelopes, wafers, sealing-wax, pencils,
+post-office stamps, &amp;c. Also with sewing implements.</p>
+
+<p>When a friend lends you a handkerchief, a collar, or any other washable
+article, see that it is nicely washed, and done up, before returning it
+to her,&mdash;and do so promptly. If an article of jewellery, carry it back
+to her yourself, and put it into her own hand, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> preclude all risk of
+loss. She will not be so ungenerous as to tell any person that she has
+lent it to you; and will for a while afterward, refrain from wearing it
+herself, in any company where it may be recognized.</p>
+
+<p>Should a visiter accidentally leave her handkerchief at your house, have
+it washed and ironed before restoring it to her.</p>
+
+<p>On borrowing a book, immediately put a cover upon it&mdash;and let the cover
+be of clean, smooth, white or light-coloured paper. What is called
+nankeen paper is best and strongest for this purpose. Newspaper, or any
+paper that is printed, makes a vile book-cover. Beside its mean and
+dirty appearance, the printing-ink will not only soil your own hands
+while reading, but will do more injury to the binding than if it was
+left uncovered.</p>
+
+<p>To cover a book neatly&mdash;take a sheet of nice paper of more than
+sufficient size, and lay the book open upon it. Cut a notch or
+indentation at the top and bottom of this paper, so as to admit the back
+of the book, making the notch exactly the width of the back, and two or
+three inches deep. Fold down the edges of the paper straightly,
+smoothly, and evenly, over the edges of the binding or cover. Fold the
+corners of the paper nicely underneath, (trimming off the superfluous
+paper that turns under,) making them lie as flat as possible. You may
+secure all the folds at the corners with small wafers, pins, or
+paste-cement. If you use pins, take care to stick them so as not to
+scratch the inside of the binding, or to prick and tear the fly-leaves.
+The paper-cover should not only be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> strong, but smooth also; if coarse
+and rough, it will injure the binding. When you send the book home, put
+it up neatly, so as to make a well-looking package; secured with either
+a string or a seal, and direct it to the owner.</p>
+
+<p>If the book is a pamphlet, and the sewing-thread gives way, sew it
+again, with a large needle and a strong brown thread&mdash;not white cotton.
+If not sewed immediately, it will fall apart, and some leaves may drop
+out, and be lost. If, by any unlucky accident, a leaf is torn, lay the
+two pieces nicely together, and sew them, lightly, with a rather fine
+thread. But if one side of the torn page is blank, it will be best to
+mend it by pasting a small narrow slip of white paper underneath, so as
+to unite the torn edges neatly.</p>
+
+<p>You may have excellent paste or cement, continually at hand, by buying
+at a druggist's an ounce of the <i>best and cleanest</i> gum tragacanth, with
+a little bit of corrosive sublimate not larger than a grain of corn, and
+dissolving them in a large half-pint of clear water, either warm or
+cold. Pick the gum tragacanth very clean, freeing it carefully from all
+dust and impurities. Put it with the corrosive sublimate into a white or
+queensware vessel having a close cover, and holding a pint, to allow for
+swelling. Pour on the water; cover it closely; and stir it <i>with a
+stick</i>, several times during the day. When sufficiently dissolved, the
+paste will be smooth throughout. The corrosive sublimate will cause it
+to keep good for a year or more; and it is an excellent and most
+convenient cement for all purposes, from wall-paper to artificial<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
+flowers. It must on no account be kept in a metal vessel or be stirred
+with a metal spoon, as it will then turn black. No house should be
+without this paste&mdash;and it should find a place in every library and
+office. When it is nearly used up, and becomes dry at the bottom, pour
+on a little water, and it will dissolve again.</p>
+
+<p>Make no remarks with pen or pencil on the margin of any book that does
+not belong to yourself. Whatever may be your own opinion of certain
+passages, you have no right to disturb other readers by obtruding upon
+them these opinions, unasked for. The pleasure of reading a book from a
+public library, is frequently marred by finding, as you proceed, that
+some impertinent fools have been before you, and scribbled their silly
+comments all through; or indulged in sneers and vituperations directed
+at the author. You may lessen this annoyance by turning over all the
+leaves before you begin reading, and erasing all the marginal remarks
+with India rubber; and this will also be an act of kindness to the next
+reader after yourself. When written with ink, (as is often the case,)
+there is no remedy; and you must endure the infliction of being annoyed
+throughout the book by these gratuitous criticisms. In a book, even
+belonging to yourself, it is well to use the pencil sparingly; and only
+to correct an error of the press, or a chronological mistake of the
+author. All readers like to form their own opinions as they go along,
+without any prompting from those who have preceded them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Never, on any consideration, allow yourself to lend a borrowed book. If
+requested to do so, it should be a sufficient excuse to say that "it is
+not your own." But if still urged, persist in declining steadily; for it
+is a liberty you have no right to take with any article belonging to
+another. Even if the owner is your sister, you should lend nothing of
+hers without first obtaining her permission. Whatever you borrow
+yourself, should pass safely from your hands to those of the owner. If a
+friend of yours is very desirous of reading a borrowed book, and has no
+other means of obtaining it, and you think you can depend on her
+carefulness and punctuality, (not else,) you may promise "to request for
+her the favour." And when the owner has consented, (and not till then,)
+you may transfer the book to the new borrower with strict injunctions to
+take great care of it, and to return it as soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p>I have known a borrowed book travel round a whole circle of relations
+and acquaintances, till, when sent home at last, it was literally worn
+out by dint of use. And this when nearly the whole set were persons who
+could well afford to buy all they were desirous of reading. Many ladies
+like very well to read when they can do so at the cost of their friends;
+but they seem to regard the purchase of any thing to improve the mind,
+or amuse the fancy, as throwing away money which they would expend more
+to their satisfaction in articles of personal decoration. And is it not
+melancholy to see an intelligent child craving in vain for books, while
+bedizened with finery to gratify the vanity of an ostentatious mother?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>If, with the permission of the owner, you have lent a borrowed book to a
+person who, having lost or injured it, still has the presumption to ask
+you to intercede for the loan of another, you are bound to refuse the
+request; and do so with civility but steadiness, assigning the true
+reason. It may be a salutary lesson to that borrower.</p>
+
+<p>Remember never to send home any article in a wrapper of newspaper. Keep
+always in the house a supply of good wrapping-paper, bought for the
+purpose, and also of balls of twine. For putting up small things, what
+is called shoe-paper is very useful. It is both nice and cheap, selling
+from fifty to sixty cents per ream, according to the size, and there are
+twenty quires in a ream. There are varieties of stronger and larger
+wrapping-paper for articles that require such, and for parcels that are
+to be sent to far-off places, or to go by public conveyances. Such
+packages are best secured by red tape and sealing-wax. At every
+stationer's may be purchased all varieties of paper.</p>
+
+<p>Be particularly careful of borrowed magazines, as the loss of one number
+spoils a whole set, and you may find great difficulty in replacing a
+lost number. Even a newspaper should be punctually returned. The owner
+may wish to file it, or to send it away to a friend. If lost or defaced
+while in your possession, send to the publishing-office and buy another.
+It is unsafe to leave the book you are reading in the parlour of a
+hotel. Always carry it away with you,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> whenever you quit the
+room&mdash;otherwise you will be likely to see it no more.</p>
+
+<p>In America, books are so cheap (not to mention the numerous public
+libraries) that in most instances all who can afford it had better buy
+than borrow, particularly such works as are worth a second reading. If
+you find your books accumulating inconveniently, give away a portion of
+them to some lover of reading, who, less fortunate than yourself, is
+unable to expend much money with the booksellers.</p>
+
+<p>I have often wondered to see a fair young stranger sitting day after
+day, idle and listless in the drawing-room of a hotel, when she might
+have known that there were bookstores in the immediate neighbourhood.</p>
+
+<p>If, while in your possession, a borrowed book is irreparably injured, it
+is your duty to replace it by purchasing for the owner another copy.
+And, if that cannot be procured, all you can do is to buy a work of
+equal value, and to present <i>that</i>, as the only compensation in your
+power. Observe the same rule with all borrowed articles, lost or
+injured. The lender is surely not the person to suffer from the
+carelessness of the borrower. Leave no borrowed books in the way of
+children, and never give a young child a book to play with. Eat no cake
+or fruit over an open book, lest it be greased or stained. And take care
+not to blister or spoil the binding by putting it down in a wet place,
+for instance, on a slopped table.</p>
+
+<p>Some young ladies have a bad habit of biting their fingers, especially
+if they rejoice in handsome hands; and the same ladies, by way of
+variety, are prone to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> bite the corners of books, and the edges of
+closed fans. So it is dangerous to trust these articles in their
+vicinity. We have seen the corners of an elegant Annual nearly bitten
+off at a centre-table in the course of one evening. And we have seen
+ice-cream eaten and wine drank over an open port-folio of beautiful
+engravings.</p>
+
+<p>By-the-bye, in taking up a print to look at it, always extend it
+carefully with both hands, that the paper may be in no danger of
+cracking or rumpling, which it cannot escape if held but in one hand,
+particularly if there is a breeze blowing near it. To show a large
+engraving without risk of injury, spread it out smoothly on a table;
+keeping it flat by means of books or other weights, laid carefully down
+on the corners, and, if the plate is <i>very</i> large, at the sides also.
+And let no one lean their elbows upon it.</p>
+
+<p>It is an irksome task to show any sort of picture to people who have
+neither taste, knowledge, nor enjoyment of the art. There are persons
+(ungenteel ones, it is true) who seem to have no other pleasure, when
+looking at a fine print or picture, than in trying to discover in the
+figures or faces, fancied resemblances to those of some individuals of
+their own circle: loudly declaring for instance, that, "Queen Victoria
+is the very image of Sarah Smith;" "Prince Albert an exact likeness of
+Dick Brown;" "the Duke of Wellington the very ditto of old Captain
+Jones," &amp;c. &amp;c. To those "who have no painting in their souls," there is
+little use in showing or explaining any fine specimen of that noblest of
+the fine arts. We have heard a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> gentleman doubting whether a capital
+portrait of Franklin was not General Washington in his everyday dress.
+We could fill pages with the absurd remarks we have heard on pictures,
+even from persons who have had a costly education put at them. There are
+ladies who can with difficulty be made to understand the difference
+between a painting and an engraving&mdash;others who think that "the same man
+always makes both." Some call a coloured print a painting&mdash;others
+talk<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> of themselves <i>painting pictures</i> in albums&mdash;not understanding
+that, properly speaking, they are water-colour drawings when done on
+paper and with transparent tintings&mdash;while <i>pictures</i> are painted with
+oil or opaque colours on canvas or board. Frescoes are painted on new
+walls before the plastering is quite dry, so that the colours
+incorporate at once with the plaster, and dry along with it; acquiring
+in that manner a surprising permanency.</p>
+
+<p>There is another very common error, that of calling
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
+a diorama a panorama. A panorama, correctly speaking,
+is a large circular representation of one place only,
+(such as Rome, Athens, Thebes, Paris,) comprising as
+much as the eye can take in at a view. The spectators,
+looking from an elevated platform in the centre,
+see the painting all around them in every direction,
+and appearing the size of reality, but always stationary.
+The panoramas exhibited successively in London by
+Barker, Burford, Catherwood and others, are admirable
+and truthful views of the places they represent;
+and after viewing them a few minutes, you can
+scarcely believe that you are not actually there, and
+looking at real objects. A few of these triumphs of
+perspective and colouring, have been brought to America.
+It were much to be wished that an arrangement
+could be made for conveying every one of these
+fine panoramas successively across the Atlantic, and
+exhibiting them in all our principal cities. It would
+be a good speculation.</p>
+
+<p>It is difficult to imagine whence originated the mistake of calling a
+diorama a panorama, which it is <i>not</i>. A diorama is one of those
+numerous flat-surface paintings of which we have had so many, (and some
+few of them very good,) and which, moving on unseen rollers, glide or
+slide along, displaying every few minutes a new portion of the scenery.</p>
+
+<p>The error has grown so common that persons fall habitually into it,
+though knowing all the time that it <i>is</i> an error. To correct it, let
+the exhibiters of dioramas cease to call them <i>panoramas</i>, and give them
+their proper name, both in their advertisements and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
+in their verbal
+descriptions. Sebron's magnificent representation of the departure of
+the Israelites, that looked so amazingly real, was not a diorama, for it
+did not move, and not a panorama, for it was not circular. But it was a
+colossal picture, so excellent that at the first glance it seemed to be
+no picture at all, but the real scene, with the real people.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>OFFENCES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>If the visits of an acquaintance become less frequent than formerly, the
+falling off is not always to be imputed to want of regard for you, or to
+having lost all pleasure in your society. The cause may be want of time,
+removal to a distance, precarious health, care of children, absence from
+town, family troubles, depressed fortunes, and various other
+circumstances. Also, with none of these causes, visiting may gradually
+and almost insensibly decline, and neither of the parties have the
+slightest dislike to each other. If no offence has been intended, none
+should be taken; and when you chance to meet, instead of consuming the
+time in complaints of estrangement, meet as if your intercourse had
+never been interrupted, and you will find it very easy to renew it; and
+perhaps on a better footing than before. The renewal should be marked by
+a prompt interchange of special invitations&mdash;followed by visits.</p>
+
+<p>Unless your rooms are spacious, you cannot have what is called a large
+general party. Some of your acquaintances must be omitted, and all that
+are left out, are generally offended. Therefore it is not well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> ever to
+have such parties, unless your accommodations are ample. <i>Squeezes</i> are
+out of fashion in the best American society. We have heard of parties at
+great houses in London, where, after the rooms were crowded to
+suffocation, a large portion of the company had to pass the evening on
+the stairs; and where coaches, unable to draw up from the immense number
+of these vehicles that were in advance, had to remain all night at the
+foot of the line, with ladies sitting in them. When morning came, they
+had to turn back, and drive home, the carriages being all they saw of
+the party.</p>
+
+<p>It is better to give two or three moderate entertainments in the course
+of the season, than to crowd your rooms uncomfortably; and even then to
+risk giving offence to those who could not be added to the number.</p>
+
+<p>If such offence has been given, try to atone for it by inviting the
+offended to dine with you, or to pass an evening, and asking at the same
+time a few pleasant people whom you know she likes.</p>
+
+<p>You may have a very intimate and sincere friend who does not find it
+convenient to send for you every time she has company. If, in all things
+else, she treats you with uniform kindness, and gives reason to believe
+that she has a true affection for you, pass over these occasional
+omissions of invitation, and do not call her to account, or treat her
+coolly when you see her. True friendship ought not depend upon
+<i>parties</i>. It should be based on a better foundation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>If no answer is returned to a note of invitation, be not hasty in
+supposing that the omission has sprung from rudeness or neglect. Trust
+that your friend is neither rude nor neglectful; and believe that the
+answer was duly sent, but that it miscarried from some accidental
+circumstance.</p>
+
+<p>A friend may inadvertently say something that you do not like to hear,
+or may make a remark that is not pleasant to you. Unless it is prefaced
+with a <i>previous</i> apology; or unless she desires you "not to be offended
+at what she is going to say;" or unless she informs you that "she
+considers it her duty always to speak her mind,"&mdash;you have no right to
+suppose the offence premeditated, and therefore you should restrain your
+temper, and calmly endeavour to convince her that she is wrong; or else
+acknowledge that she is right. She ought then to apologize for what she
+said, and you should immediately change the subject, and never again
+refer to it. In this way quarrels may be prevented, and ill-feeling
+crushed in the bud. When what is called "a coolness" takes place between
+friends, the longer it goes on the more difficult it is to get over. But
+"better late than never." If, on consideration, you find that <i>you</i> were
+in the wrong, let no false pride, no stubborn perverseness prevent you
+from making that acknowledgement. If your friend, on her part, first
+shows a desire for reconciliation, meet her half-way. A vindictive
+disposition is a bad one, and revenge is a most unchristian feeling.
+People of sense (unless the injury is very great, and of lasting
+consequences) are easy to appease, because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> they generally have good
+feelings, and know how to listen to reason. Dr. Watts most truly says&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i0">"The wise will let their anger cool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At least before 'tis night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in the bosom of a fool,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">It burns till morning light."</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Should you chance to be thrown into the presence of persons who have
+proved themselves your enemies, and with whom you can have no
+intercourse, say nothing either <i>to</i> them or <i>at</i> them; and do not place
+yourself in their vicinity. To talk <i>at</i> a person, is mean and vulgar.
+Those who do it are fully capable of writing anonymous and insulting
+letters; and they often do so. High-minded people will always be
+scrupulously careful in observing toward those with whom they are at
+variance, all the ceremonies usual in polite society&mdash;particularly the
+conventional civilities of the table.</p>
+
+<p>If you have, unfortunately, had a quarrel with a friend, talk of it to
+others as little as possible; lest in the heat of anger, you may give an
+exaggerated account, and represent your adversary in darker colours than
+she deserves. You may be very sure these misrepresentations will reach
+her ear, and be greatly magnified by every successive relater. In this
+way a trifle may be swelled into importance; a mole-hill may become a
+mountain; and a slight affront may embitter the feelings of future
+years. "Blessed are the peacemakers,"&mdash;and a mutual friend, if
+well-disposed toward both opponents, generally has it in her power to
+effect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> a reconciliation, by repeating, kindly, any favourable remark
+she may chance to have heard one of the offended parties make on the
+other. In truth, we wish it were the universal custom for all people to
+tell other people whatever good they may hear of them&mdash;instead of the
+wicked and hateful practice of telling only the bad. Make it a rule to
+repeat to your friends all the pleasant remarks that (as far as you
+know) are made on them, and you will increase their happiness, and your
+own popularity. We do not mean that you should flatter them, by reciting
+compliments that are not true; but truth is not flattery, and there is
+no reason why agreeable truths should not always be told. There would
+then be far more kind feeling in the world. Few persons are so bad as
+not to have some good in them. Let them hear of the good. Few are so
+ugly as not to have about them something commendable even externally, if
+it is only a becoming dress. Let them hear of that dress. Flattery is
+praise without foundation. To tell a person with heavy, dull gray eyes,
+that her eyes are of a bright and beautiful blue; to talk of her golden
+locks to a woman with positive red hair of the tint called carroty; to
+tell a long, thin, stoop-shouldered girl, that she possesses the light
+and airy form of a sylph; or a short-necked, fat one that her figure has
+the dignity of an empress; to assure a faded matron that she looks like
+a young girl; to fall into raptures on listening to bad music, or when
+viewing a drawing that depicts nothing intelligible; or praising album
+poetry that has neither "rhyme nor reason,"&mdash;all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> this is gross
+flattery, which the object (if she has any sense) will easily detect,
+and suspect that you are trying experiments on her vanity and credulity.</p>
+
+<p>Still where agreeable qualities <i>really</i> exist, it is not amiss to
+allude to them delicately. It will give pleasure without compromising
+veracity.</p>
+
+<p>When any thing complimentary is said to you, acknowledge it by a bow and
+smile, but do not attempt an answer unless you can say something in
+return that will be equally sincere and pleasant. Most probably you
+cannot; therefore look gratified, and bow your thanks, but remain
+silent. Few ladies are distinguished, like the Harriet Byron of
+Grandison, "for a very pretty manner of returning a compliment." Do not
+reject the compliment by pretending to prove that you do not deserve it.
+But if it is a piece of bare-faced flattery, the best answer is to look
+gravely, and say or do nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Should you chance accidentally to overhear a remark to your
+disadvantage, consider first if there may not be some truth in it. If
+you feel that there is, turn it to profitable account, and try to
+improve, or to get rid of the fault, whatever it may be. But never show
+resentment at any thing not intended for your ear, unless it is
+something of such vital importance as to render it necessary that you
+should come forward in self-defence. These instances, however, are of
+rare occurrence.</p>
+
+<p>If you are so placed that you can hear the conversation of persons who
+are talking about you, it is very mean to sit there and listen.
+Immediately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> remove to a distance far enough to be out of hearing.</p>
+
+<p>It is a proverb that listeners seldom hear any good of themselves. It
+were a pity if they should. Eavesdropping or listening beneath an open
+window, the crack of a door, or through a key-hole, are as dishonourable
+as to pick pockets.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2>
+
+<h3>OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>In her intercourse with gentlemen, a lady should take care to avoid all
+pecuniary obligations. The civility that a gentleman conventionally owes
+to a lady is a sufficient tax&mdash;more she has no right to expect, or to
+accept. A man of good sense, and of true politeness, will not be
+offended at her unwillingness to become his debtor. On the contrary, he
+will respect her delicacy, and approve her dignity; and consent at once
+to her becoming her own banker on all occasions where expense is to be
+incurred. This is the custom in Europe; and is, in most cases, a very
+good one.</p>
+
+<p>When invited to join a party to a place of amusement, let her consent,
+if she wishes; but let her state expressly that it is only on condition
+of being permitted to pay for her own ticket. If she steadily adheres to
+this custom, it will soon be understood that such is always her
+commendable practice; and she can then, with perfect propriety, at any
+time, ask for a seat among friends who intend going. To this
+accommodation she could not invite herself, if in the continual habit of
+visiting public places at the expense of others. The best time for a
+lady to pay for herself is to put her money into the hand of the
+gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> <i>previous</i> to their departure for the place of performance.
+He will not be so rude as to refuse to take it. If he does refuse, she
+should evince her resentment by going with him no more.</p>
+
+<p>Young men of limited means are frequently drawn into expenses they can
+ill afford, by being acquainted with young ladies who profess a passion
+for equestrian exercises&mdash;a most inconvenient passion for one who has
+not a horse of her own, or who lives in a family where no horses are
+kept. If her gentleman is obliged to hire, not only a horse for himself,
+but also one for the lady, let her have sufficient consideration <i>not</i>
+to propose to him that they should take rides together&mdash;and let her not
+draw him into an invitation, by her dwelling excessively on the delight
+of horseback excursions. In cities, these rides are expensive luxuries
+to those who keep no horses. Few city ladies ride well, (even if they
+have been at riding-school,) for want of daily practice out of doors.
+They are not exactly at ease on the horse, and always seem somewhat
+afraid of him; at least till they are "off the stones," and out in the
+open country. While in the streets, the rare sight of a lady on
+horseback attracts much attention, and a crowd of boys gathers round to
+see her mount her steed, or alight from it. This to a young lady of
+delicacy is very embarrassing, or ought to be.</p>
+
+<p>In the country, the case is totally different. There, "practice makes
+perfect." The ladies, being accustomed to riding their own horses from
+childhood, acquire the art without any trouble, have no fear, feel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
+perfectly at home in the saddle, and therefore sit gracefully, and
+manage their steeds easily. And as every country gentleman has a
+riding-horse of his own, he can accompany a lady without the expense of
+hiring.</p>
+
+<p>Lay no wagers with gentlemen, and have no philopenas with them. In
+betting with a lady, it is customary for the gentleman to pay whether he
+wins or loses. What then does the wager imply, but a rapacious and mean
+desire on the part of the lady to "get a present out of him"&mdash;as such
+ladies would express it. No delicate and refined female ever bets at
+all. It is a very coarse and masculine way of asserting an opinion or a
+belief; and always reminds gentlemen of the race-course, or the
+gaming-table.</p>
+
+<p>We disapprove of ladies going to charity-fairs in the evening, when they
+require a male escort&mdash;and when that escort is likely to be drawn into
+paying exorbitant prices for gifts to his fair companion&mdash;particularly,
+if induced to do so from the fear of appearing mean, or of being thought
+wanting in benevolence. In the evening, the young ladies who "have
+tables," are apt to become especially importunate in urging the sale of
+their goods&mdash;and appear to great disadvantage as imitation-shop-keepers,
+exhibiting a boldness in teazing that no real saleswoman would presume
+to display. Then the crowd is generally great; the squeezing and pushing
+very uncomfortable; and most of the company far from genteel. Ladies who
+<i>are</i> ladies, should only visit fancy-fairs in the day-time, when they
+can go without gentlemen; none of whom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> take much pleasure in this mode
+of raising money; or rather of levying contributions for special
+purposes. There are other ways that are more lady-like, more effective,
+less fatiguing, and more satisfactory to all concerned&mdash;and far less
+detrimental to the interests of the numerous poor women who get their
+living by their needles, or by their ingenuity in making ornamental
+nick-nacks for sale, and who ask but a fair price for them. Dress-makers
+are frequently induced to keep back portions of silk, the rightful
+property of their customers, who may afterwards be put to great
+inconvenience for want of them, when the dress is to be altered or
+repaired. And these pieces are given to the ladies who go about begging
+for materials to make pincushions, &amp;c. for fancy-fairs. This is
+dishonest. Let them go to a store and buy small pieces of silk, velvet,
+ribbon, and whatever they want for these purposes.</p>
+
+<p>If you have occasion to send by a gentleman a package to a
+transportation-office, give him along with it the money to pay for its
+carriage. If you borrow change, (even one cent,) return it to him
+punctually. He ought to take it as a thing of course, without any
+comment. When you commission him to buy any thing for you, if you know
+the price, give the money beforehand; otherwise, pay it as soon as he
+brings the article. Do all such things promptly, lest they should escape
+your memory if delayed.</p>
+
+<p>When visiting a fancy-store with a gentleman, refrain from excessively
+admiring any handsome or expensive article you may chance to see there.
+Above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> all, express no wish that you were able to buy it, and no regret
+that you cannot, lest he should construe these extreme tokens of
+admiration into hints that you wish him to buy it for you. To allow him
+to do so, would on your part be very mean and indelicate, and on his
+very foolish.</p>
+
+<p>It ought to be a very painful office (and is a very improper one) for
+young ladies to go round soliciting from gentlemen subscriptions for
+charitable purposes. Still it is done. Subscription-papers should only
+be offered by persons somewhat advanced in life, and of undoubted
+respectability&mdash;and then the application should be made, exclusively, to
+those whose circumstances are known to be affluent. People who have not
+much to give, generally prefer giving that little to objects of charity
+within their own knowledge. Who is there that does not know a poor
+family? And without actually giving money, (which in too many instances,
+is immediately appropriated by a drunken husband to supply himself with
+more drink,) much may be done to procure a few comforts for a miserable
+wife and children.</p>
+
+<p>When you ask money for a charitable purpose, do so only when quite alone
+with the person to whom you apply. It is taking an undue advantage to
+make the request in presence of others&mdash;particularly if, as before
+observed, there is not wealth as well as benevolence. There is a time
+for all things&mdash;and young ladies are deservedly unpopular when, even in
+the cause of charity, they seize every opportunity to levy contributions
+on the purses of gentlemen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It is wrong to trouble gentlemen with commissions that may cause them
+inconvenience or expense. In the awful days of bandboxes, unfortunate
+young men riding in stages were sometimes required to convey one of
+these cumbrous receptacles of bonnets and caps a day's journey upon
+their knees, to save it from rain outside. Sometimes an immense package
+containing an immense shawl. We knew an officer who, by particular
+desire, actually carried <i>three</i> great shawls several hundred miles;
+each bundle to be delivered at a different house in "the City of
+Magnificent Distances." But as to officers, "sufferance is the badge of
+all their tribe." Now these shawls should all have been sent by the
+public line, even if the transportation <i>did</i> cost something.</p>
+
+<p>We repeat, that a lady cannot be too particular in placing herself under
+obligations to a gentleman. She should scrupulously avoid it in every
+little thing that may involve him in expense on her account. And he will
+respect her the more.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2>
+
+<h3>CONDUCT TO LITERARY WOMEN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>On being introduced to a female writer, it is rude to say that "you have
+long had a great <i>curiosity</i> to see her." Curiosity is not the right
+word. It is polite to imply that, "knowing her well by reputation, you
+are glad to have an opportunity of making her personal acquaintance."
+Say nothing concerning her writings, unless you chance to be alone with
+her. Take care not to speak of her first work as being her best; for if
+it is really so, she must have been retrograding from that time; a
+falling off that she will not like to hear of. Perhaps the truth may be,
+that you yourself have read only her <i>first</i> work; and if you tell her
+this, she will not be much flattered in supposing that you, in reality,
+cared so little for her first book, as to feel no desire to try a
+second. But she will be really gratified to learn that you are
+acquainted with most of her writings; and, in the course of
+conversation, it will be very pleasant for her to hear you quote
+something from them.</p>
+
+<p>If she is a writer of fiction, and you presume to take the liberty of
+criticising her works, (as you may at her own request, or if you are her
+intimate friend,) refrain from urging that certain incidents are
+<i>improbable</i>,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> and certain characters <i>unnatural</i>. Of this it is
+impossible for you to judge, unless you could have lived the very same
+life that she has; known exactly the same people; and inhabited with her
+the same places. Remember always that "Truth is stranger than fiction."
+The French say&mdash;"Le vrai n'est pas toujours le plus
+vraisemblable,"&mdash;which, literally translated, means that "Truth is not
+always the most truth-like." Also, be it understood that a woman of
+quick perception and good memory can see and recollect a thousand things
+which would never be noticed or remembered by an obtuse or shallow,
+common-place capacity. And the intellect of a good writer of fiction is
+always brightened by the practice of taking in and laying up ideas with
+a view toward turning them to professional use. Trust in her, and
+believe that she <i>has</i> painted from life. A sensible fictionist always
+does. At the same time, be not too curious in questioning her as to the
+identity of her personages and the reality of her incidents. You have no
+right to expect that she will expose to you, or to any one else, her
+process of arranging the story, bringing out the characters, or
+concocting the dialogue. The machinery of her work, and the hidden
+springs which set it in motion, she naturally wishes to keep to herself;
+and she cannot be expected to lay them bare for the gratification of
+impertinent curiosity, letting them become subjects of idle gossip. Be
+satisfied to take her works as you find them. If you like them, read and
+commend them; but do not ask her to conduct you behind the scenes, and
+show you the mysteries of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> her art&mdash;for writing is really an art, and
+one that cannot be acquired, to any advantage, without a certain amount
+of talent, taste, and cultivation, to say nothing of genius. What right
+have you to expect that your literary friend will trust you with "the
+secrets of her prison-house," and put it into your power to betray her
+confidence by acquainting the world that a certain popular novelist has
+informed you with her own lips ("but it must on no account be mentioned,
+as the disclosure would give mortal offence, and create for her hosts of
+enemies,") that by her character of Fanny Gadfly she really means Lucy
+Giddings; that Mr. Hardcastle signifies Mr. Stone; that Old Wigmore was
+modelled on no less a person than Isaac Baldwin; that Mrs. Bastings was
+taken from Mrs. Sunning; and Mrs. Babes from Mrs. Childers&mdash;&amp;c. &amp;c.
+Also, do not expect her to tell you on what facts her incidents were
+founded, and whether there was any truth in them, or if they were mere
+invention.</p>
+
+<p>Be not inquisitive as to the length of time consumed in writing this
+book or that&mdash;or how soon the work now on hand will be finished. It can
+scarcely be any concern of yours, and the writer may have reasons for
+keeping back the information. Rest assured that whenever a public
+announcement of a new book is expedient, it will certainly be made in
+print.</p>
+
+<p>There are persons so rude as to question a literary woman (even on a
+slight acquaintance) as to the remuneration she receives for her
+writings&mdash;in plain terms, "How much did you get for that? and how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> much
+are you to have for this? And how much do you make in the course of a
+year? And how much a page do you get? And how many pages can you write
+in a day?"</p>
+
+<p>To any impertinent questions from a stranger-lady concerning the profits
+of your pen, reply concisely, that these things are secrets between
+yourself and your publishers. If you kindly condescend to answer without
+evasion, these polite enquiries, you will probably hear such
+exclamations as, "Why, really&mdash;you must be coining money. I think I'll
+write books myself! There can't be a better trade," &amp;c.</p>
+
+<p>Ignorant people always suppose that popular writers are wonderfully
+well-paid&mdash;and must be making rapid fortunes&mdash;because they neither
+starve in garrets, nor wear rags&mdash;at least in America.</p>
+
+<p>Never ask one writer what is her <i>real</i> opinion of a cotemporary author.
+She may be unwilling to entrust it to you, as she can have no guarantee
+that you will not whisper it round till it gets into print. If she
+voluntarily expresses her own opinion of another writer, and it <i>is</i>
+unfavourable, be honourable enough not to repeat it; but guard it
+sedulously from betrayal, and avoid mentioning it to any one.</p>
+
+<p>When in company with literary women, make no allusions to "learned
+ladies," or "blue stockings," or express surprise that they should have
+any knowledge of housewifery, or needle-work, or dress; or that they are
+able to talk on "common things." It is rude and foolish, and shows that
+you really know nothing about them, either as a class or as
+individuals.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Never tell an authoress that "you are afraid of her"&mdash;or entreat her
+"not to put you into a book." Be assured there is no danger.</p>
+
+<p>An authoress has seldom leisure to entertain morning visiters; so much
+of her time being professionally occupied either in writing, or in
+reading what will prepare her for writing. She should apprize all her
+friends of the hours in which she is usually engaged; and then none who
+are really her friends and well-wishers, will encroach upon her
+convenience for any purpose of their own; unless under extraordinary
+circumstances. To tell her that you were "just passing by," or "just in
+the neighbourhood," and "just thought you would stop in," is a very
+selfish, or at least a very inconsiderate excuse. Is she to suppose that
+you do not consider her conversation worthy of a visit made on purpose?</p>
+
+<p>Recollect that to a woman who gets her living by her pen, "time is
+money," as it is to an artist. Therefore, encroaching on her time is
+lessening her income. And yet how often is this done (either heedlessly
+or selfishly) by persons professing to be her friends, and who are
+habitually in the practice of interrupting her in her writing hours,
+which should always be in the morning, if possible. They think it
+sufficient to say, like Paul Pry, "I hope I don't intrude"&mdash;knowing all
+the time that they <i>do</i>, and pretending to believe her when civility
+obliges her to tell them they do <i>not</i>. Even if the visit is not a long
+one, it is still an interruption. In one minute it may break a chain of
+ideas which cannot be reunited, dispel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> thoughts that can never be
+recalled, disturb the construction of a sentence, and obliterate a
+recollection that will not return. And to all this the literary lady
+must submit, because her so-called friend "chanced to be out that
+morning shopping"&mdash;or "happened to be visiting in that part of the
+town"&mdash;and therefore has called on <i>her</i> by way of "killing two birds
+with one stone." Very likely, the visiter will say to the unfortunate
+visited, "I know it is inconvenient to you to see your friends in the
+morning, but I never feel like going out in the afternoon. As soon as
+dinner is over I must have my nap; and by the time that is finished, it
+is too late for any thing else."</p>
+
+<p>In consequence of these ill-timed visits, the printer may have to send
+in vain for "copy" that is not yet ready; and an article written
+expressly for a magazine may arrive too late for the next month, and be
+therefore deferred a month later, which may subject her not only to
+inconvenience, but to actual pecuniary loss&mdash;loss of money. Or, at
+least, the interruption may compel her to the painful effort of trying
+to finish it even by sitting up late at night, and straining her weary
+eyes by lamp-light. Yet this she must endure because it suits an idle
+and thoughtless <i>friend</i> to make her a long and inopportune visit. The
+children of the pen and the pencil might say to these intruders, like
+the frogs in the pond when the boys were pelting them with stones&mdash;"This
+may be sport to you, but it is death to us."</p>
+
+<p>If, when admitted into her study, you should find her writing-table in
+what appears to you like great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> confusion, recollect that there is
+really no wit in a remark too common on such occasions,&mdash;"Why, you look
+quite <i>littery</i>,"&mdash;a poor play on the words <i>literary</i> and <i>litter</i>. In
+all probability, she knows precisely where to lay her hand upon every
+paper on the table: having in reality placed them exactly to suit her
+convenience. Though their arrangement may be quite unintelligible to the
+uninitiated, there is no doubt method (her own method, at least) in
+their apparent disorder. It is not likely she may have time to put her
+writing table in nice-looking order every day. To have it done by
+servants is out of the question, as <i>they</i> would make "confusion worse
+confounded;" being of course unable to comprehend how <i>such a table</i>
+should be arranged.</p>
+
+<p>If you chance to find an authoress occupied with her needle, express no
+astonishment, and refrain from exclaiming, "What! can <i>you</i> sew?" or, "I
+never supposed a literary lady could even hem a handkerchief!"</p>
+
+<p>This is a false, and if expressed in words, an insulting idea. A large
+number of literary females are excellent needle-women, and good
+housewives; and there is no reason why they should not be. The same
+vigour of character and activity of intellect which renders a woman a
+<i>good</i> writer, will also enable her to acquire with a quickness, almost
+intuitive, a competent knowledge of household affairs, and of the art of
+needle-work. And she will find, upon making the attempt, that, with a
+little time and a little perseverance, she may become as notable a
+personage (both in theory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> and practice) as if she had never read a
+book, or written a page.</p>
+
+<p>The Dora of David Copperfield is an admirable illustration of the fact
+that a silly, illiterate woman may be the worst of housewives. Dickens
+has unquestionably painted this character exactly from life. But that he
+always does. He must have known a Dora. And who has not?</p>
+
+<p>If you find your literary friend in dèshabille, and she apologizes for
+it&mdash;(she had best <i>not</i> apologize)&mdash;tell her not that "authoresses are
+privileged persons, and are never expected to pay any attention to
+dress." Now, literary slatterns are not more frequent than slatterns who
+are not literary. It is true that women of enlarged minds, and really
+good taste, do not think it necessary to follow closely all the changes
+and follies of fashion, and to wear things that are inconvenient,
+uncomfortable, and unbecoming, merely because milliners, dress-makers,
+&amp;c. have pronounced them "the last new style."</p>
+
+<p>It is ill-manners to refer in any way to the profession of the person to
+whom you are talking, unless that person is an intimate friend, and you
+are alone with her; and unless she herself begins the subject. Still
+worse, to allude to their profession as if you supposed it rendered them
+different from the rest of the world, and marked them with peculiarities
+from which other people are exempt.</p>
+
+<p>It is true that authorlings and poetizers are apt to affect
+eccentricity. Real authors, and even real poets, (by real we mean good
+ones,) have generally a large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> portion of common sense to balance their
+genius, and are therefore seldom guilty of the queernesses unjustly
+imputed to the whole fraternity.</p>
+
+<p>When in company with a literary lady with whom you are not on very
+confidential terms, it is bad taste to talk to her exclusively of books,
+and to endeavour to draw out her opinion of authors with whom she is
+personally acquainted&mdash;and whom she will, of course, be unwilling to
+criticise, (at least in miscellaneous society,) lest her remarks should
+be invidiously or imprudently repeated, and even get into print. "Any
+thing new in the literary world?" is a question by which some people
+always commence conversation with an author. Why should it be supposed
+that they always "carry the shop along with them," or that they take no
+interest or pleasure in things not connected with books. On the
+contrary, they are glad to be allowed the privilege of unbending like
+other people. And a good writer is almost always a good talker, and
+fully capable of conversing well on various subjects. Try her.</p>
+
+<p>It was beautifully said of Jane Taylor, the charming author of a popular
+and never-tiring little book of "Original Poems for Children," that "you
+only knew that the stream of literature had passed over her mind by the
+fertility it left behind it."</p>
+
+<p>We have witnessed, when two distinguished lady-writers chanced to be at
+the same party, an unmannerly disposition to "pit them against each
+other"&mdash;placing them side by side, or <i>vis-à-vis</i>, and saying something
+about, "When Greek meets Greek," &amp;c.,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> and absolutely collecting a
+circle round them, to be amused or edified by the expected dialogue.
+This is rude and foolish.</p>
+
+<p>It is not treating a talented woman with due consideration, to be active
+in introducing to her the silliest and flattest people in the room,
+because the said flats have been worked up into a desire of seeing, face
+to face, "a live authoress"&mdash;though in all probability they have not
+read one of her works.</p>
+
+<p>That notorious lion-hunter, the Countess of Cork, was so candid as to
+say to certain celebrated writers, "I'll sit by <i>you</i> because you are
+famous." To a very charming American lady whom she was persuading to
+come to her party, she frankly added, "My dear, you really must not
+refuse me. Don't you know you are my decoy-duck."</p>
+
+<p>There are mothers (called pattern-mothers) who uphold the theory that
+every thing in the world must bend to the advantage (real or supposed)
+of children, that is, of their own children&mdash;and who have continually on
+their lips the saying, "a mother's first duty is to her children." So it
+is, and it is her duty not to render them vain, impertinent, conceited,
+and obtrusive, by allowing them to suppose that they must on all
+occasions be brought forward; and that their mother's visiters have
+nothing to do but to improve and amuse <i>them</i>. Therefore a literary lady
+often receives a more than hint from such a mother to talk only on
+edifying subjects when the dear little creatures are present; and then
+the conversation is required to take a Penny-Magazine tone,
+exclusively&mdash;the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> darlings being, most probably, restless and impatient
+all the time, the girls sitting uneasily on their chairs and looking
+tired, and the boys suddenly bolting out of the room to get back to
+their sports. It is true the children will be less impatient if the
+visiter will trouble herself to "tell them stories" all the time; but it
+is rude to ask her to do so.</p>
+
+<p>When directing a letter to "a woman of letters," it is not considered
+polite to insert the word "Authoress" after her name. And yet we have
+seen this done by persons who ought to know better. If you are
+unacquainted with the number and street of her residence, direct to the
+care of her publisher; whose place you may always find, by referring to
+the title-page of one of her last works, and by seeing his
+advertisements in the newspapers. The booksellers always know where
+their authors are to be found. So do the printers&mdash;for their boys convey
+the proof-sheets.</p>
+
+<p>Observe that the term "learned lady" is not correctly applied to a
+female, unless she has successfully cultivated what is understood to be
+the learning of colleges&mdash;for instance, the dead languages, &amp;c.
+Unfortunately, the term is now seldom used but in derision, and to
+denote a woman whose studies have been entirely of the masculine order.
+You may speak of a well-informed, well-read, talented, intellectual,
+accomplished lady; but call her not <i>learned</i>, unless she is well-versed
+in the Greek and Latin classics, and able to discuss them from their
+original language. Even then, spare her the appellation of <i>learned</i>, if
+gentlemen are present. In the dark ages, when not every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> lady could read
+and write, the few that <i>were</i> entitled to the "benefit of clergy,"
+frequently "drank deep in tasting the Pierian spring," and proceeded to
+study the learned languages with great success; for instance, Lady Jane
+Grey and Queen Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p>In desiring the autograph of a literary lady, do not expect her to write
+in your album "a piece of poetry." Be satisfied with her signature only.
+There is a spice of meanness in requesting from her, as a gift, any
+portion of her stock in trade. As well might you ask Mr. Stewart, or Mr.
+Levy, to present you with an embroidered collar, or a pair of gloves.
+For the same reason, never request an artist to "draw something" in your
+album. It is only amateur poets, and amateur artists, that can afford to
+write and draw in albums. Those who make a living by their profession,
+have no time to spare for gratuitous performances; and it is as wrong to
+ask them, as it is to invite public singers to "favour the company with
+a song" at private parties, where they are invited as guests. It is,
+however, not unusual for professional musicians to kindly and politely
+gratify the company by inviting themselves to sing; saying, "Perhaps you
+would like to hear my last song." And sometimes, if quite "in the vein,"
+a real poet, when modestly asked for merely his signature, will
+voluntarily add a few lines of verse. But do not expect it.</p>
+
+<p>There are pretty little books of fine paper, handsomely bound, that are
+used for the purpose of containing signature autographs; one on each
+page. A lady owning such a book, can send it to any distinguished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
+person of whose hand-writing she wishes to possess a specimen.</p>
+
+<p>When the name at the bottom of a letter is shown to you as an autograph,
+it is rude to take the letter into your own hand, and read the whole, or
+even to glance your eye over it. It is not intended that you shall see
+any thing but the signature.</p>
+
+<p>We will now address a few words to beginners in the art of writing, with
+reference to their intercourse with women of well-established literary
+reputation. If these ladies of decided standing in the republic of
+letters have sufficient leisure, they will generally be very kind in
+assisting with their counsel a young aspirant, who shows any evidence of
+talent for the profession. Unluckily, too many novices in the art,
+mistake a mere desire to get into print, for that rarest of
+gifts&mdash;genius. And without genius, there is no possibility of gaining by
+the pen, either fame, or fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Long manuscripts are frequently sent for the revisal "at leisure" of a
+person who has little or no leisure. Yet in the intervals of toiling for
+herself, she is expected to toil for some one else; probably for a
+stranger whom she does not know, in whom she can take no interest, and
+who has evidently "no writing in her soul." If, however, the modest
+request is kindly complied with, in all probability the corrections will
+only give offence, and may perhaps be crossed out before the manuscript
+is offered to the publisher, who very likely may reject it for want of
+these very corrections. We have known such incidents.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The least talented of the numerous females pretending to authorship, are
+generally the most conceited and the most obtrusive. They are frequently
+very great annoyances to women "well-up the ladder," who are expected,
+in many instances, not only to revise the manuscript, but immediately to
+find a purchaser for it&mdash;a purchaser of high rank among publishers&mdash;one
+who will bring it out handsomely, ensure it an immense circulation, pay
+promptly, and pay as much as is given to the standard authors. And
+besides being desired to "get it published," the reviser of the
+manuscript will, perhaps, be requested to correct the proofs; that is,
+if the literary novice should chance to know what proof-sheets are.</p>
+
+<p>The work thus arrogantly thrust upon the time and attention of a
+deservedly-popular writer may be a book of "sweet poetry," on weak,
+worn-out, common-place subjects, done into feeble, halting, ill-rhyming
+verses, such as few read, and none remember. Or the aspirant after fame,
+may have chosen the easier path of prose, and produced a fiction without
+fancy, a novel without novelty, "a thrilling tale" that thrills nobody,
+a picture of fashionable life after no fashion that ever existed, or "a
+pathetic story of domestic life," neither pathetic nor domestic.</p>
+
+<p>Yet if a practised and successful author ventures to pronounce an
+<i>unfavourable</i> verdict on such productions, because the writer desired
+her <i>candid</i> opinion, she will probably light up a flame of resentment,
+that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> may never be extinguished, and make an enemy for life; the
+objections being imputed to "sheer envy," and to a malignant design of
+"extinguishing a rising star."</p>
+
+<p>A sufficient introduction to a publisher is to send him the manuscript,
+accompanied by a note requesting his opinion as soon as convenient. If
+he approves it, and believes it will be profitable, there is no doubt of
+his being willing to print the work. And if he thinks he shall make
+nothing by it, it is equally certain that he will decline the offer. It
+is too much to expect that he will be so regardless of his own interest
+as to publish a book, the sale of which will not remunerate him for the
+cost of paper and printing.</p>
+
+<p>Ladies who live in the same house with an authoress, have opportunities
+enough of seeing her in the parlour, and at table; therefore they may
+dispense with visiting her in her own room. Spare her all interruptions
+of applying for the loan of books, paper, pens, ink, &amp;c. Do not expect
+that, because she writes, she must necessarily keep a free circulating
+library, or a gratuitous stationer's shop. Supply yourself with all such
+conveniences from the regular sources. Buy them, and pay for them,
+instead of troubling one who has not time to be troubled. Above all,
+refrain from the meanness of asking her to lend you any book written by
+herself. If she volunteers the loan, then receive it thankfully; and
+take care to return it speedily, and in good condition. It is <i>her</i>
+interest, and the interest of her publishers, that a large number of
+copies shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> be <i>sold</i>; not lent, or given away. Many persons
+erroneously suppose that an author has always on hand an unlimited
+number of her own books; or that the publisher will kindly give her as
+many as she can want for herself and friends. This is by no means the
+case. It is usual, when the first edition comes out, for the publisher
+to send the author half a dozen copies of the book, or a dozen, if it is
+a small one. After that, if she wants any more, she is expected to
+buy them of the bookseller. Therefore, she has none to <i>give away</i>,
+except to members of her own family, or to friends whose circumstances
+will not permit them to expend money in books, and who have an ardent
+love for reading without the means of gratifying it. We have known
+ladies, possessing diamonds and India shawls, and living in splendid
+houses, ask the author for the loan of a cookery-book, with the avowed
+purpose of "copying out the best receipts."</p>
+
+<p>Apropos to cookery-books:&mdash;If you have faithfully followed a receipt,
+and the result is not quite satisfactory, there is nothing amiss in your
+acquainting the writer with that fact, provided it <i>is</i> a fact. On the
+contrary, you may do her a kindness, by enabling her to detect an error
+in the directions, and to rectify that error in a future edition.</p>
+
+<p>Women often assert that the receipt was not a good one, and that upon
+trial it proved a failure, when, on investigation, you will find that,
+from false economy, some of the ingredients were left out; or the
+relative proportions diminished in quantity&mdash;too much of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> cheapest
+articles being put in, and not enough of the more costly. Or else, that
+sufficient time and pains were not bestowed on the mixing and preparing;
+or that the thing was not sufficiently cooked.</p>
+
+<p>By-the-bye, remember that a receipt for cookery, is not to be called a
+<i>recipe</i>. The word <i>recipe</i> belongs to pharmacy, and is only used with
+reference to medical prescriptions. The cook uses <i>receipts</i>, the
+apothecary <i>recipes</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Whatever article you may wish to borrow from an inmate of the same
+house, apply first to persons whose time is of comparatively small
+importance to them, before you disturb and interrupt a literary lady. Do
+not trouble her for the loan of umbrellas, over-shoes, hoods, calashes,
+&amp;c., or send to her for small change.</p>
+
+<p>We once lived in a house where coal-fires were scarce, and wood-fires
+plenty. Our own fire-arrangement was wood in a Franklin stove, and no
+other person in the house was the fortunate owner of a pair of bellows.
+Liking always to be comfortable, we had bought a pair for ourselves.</p>
+
+<p>Ten times a day we were disturbed by a knock at the door, from a
+coloured girl who came "a-borrowing" this implement to revive the fire
+of some other room. She called it by a pleasing variety of
+names&mdash;running through all the vowels. Sometimes she wanted the
+bellow<i>sas</i>; sometimes the bellow<i>ses</i>; or the bellow<i>sis</i>, the
+bellow<i>sos</i>, or the bellow<i>sus</i>. These frequent interruptions, with
+others that were similar, became a real grievance. We thought it would
+cost us less to present<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> the bellows to the house, and buy another pair
+for ourselves. We did so&mdash;but very soon the first pair was somehow
+missing, and our own was again in requisition.</p>
+
+<p>Since that winter we have burnt anthracite, and therefore have no
+bellow<i>sas</i> to lend.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2>
+
+<h3>SUGGESTIONS TO INEXPERIENCED AUTHORS.</h3>
+
+
+<p>There is some economy and much convenience in buying your paper by the
+ream, (twenty quires,) having first tried a sample. The surface of the
+paper should be smooth, and somewhat glossy; particularly if you write
+with metallic pens. That which is soft and spongy, though a little lower
+in price, wears out the pen so fast that what is saved in paper is lost
+in pens; also, there is no possibility of writing on it with ease and
+expedition. You will find it best to use paper ruled in lines. If you
+write a large hand, take foolscap; if a small hand, use letter-paper
+size. But note-paper is too small, when you are writing for the press.</p>
+
+<p>Before you commence your manuscript, take a quire, and prepare each
+sheet by splitting it all down the folded side, with a sharp
+paper-cutter, thus dividing it into half-sheets. You can do this better
+on a flat table than on the slope of a desk. Keep your left hand
+pressing down hard on the quire, while you are cutting it with your
+right.</p>
+
+<p>The best paper-cutters are those of real ivory. A handle is of no
+advantage to them, but rather the contrary. They should be thin, plain,
+and perfectly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> straight, except being rounded off at the two ends. Ivory
+paper-knives of this form are generally used by the book-binders, an
+evidence that they are convenient and expeditious. Those of bone or horn
+are scarcely worth buying, though but half the price; the edges soon
+becoming blunt, and therefore useless. Wooden paper-knives are good for
+nothing. Paper-knives of mother of pearl, and other ornamental
+substances, are of little utility, being rarely sharp enough, (even when
+new,) and in a short time becoming quite dull. Also, they break very
+easily. Avoid cutting a sheet of paper, or the leaves of a book, with
+scissors; it is comparatively a slow and awkward process; and cannot,
+even with great care, be effected as smoothly and evenly as with a
+cutter of ivory.</p>
+
+<p>Before you split or divide the sheet, press the paper-knife all along
+the fold, so as to flatten the crease, and make it cut evenly and
+easily. Having split your whole sheets into leaves or half-sheets, take
+each half-sheet separately, and fold over an inch or more all along the
+left-hand edge; so as to leave a margin or space for sewing the
+manuscript when finished. Do this with the paper-knife. Lay a pile of
+these half-sheets beside you when you sit down to write, and take them
+as you want them.</p>
+
+<p>Write only on one side of the paper. If written on both sides, it will
+cause trouble and inconvenience to the printers, by obliging them to
+turn over at the end of every page. This rule, however, may be dispensed
+with, when a manuscript is so short that it may be comprised in one
+sheet, and is to be transmitted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> by mail. This may be the more easily
+managed, by drawing with a pencil or pen a straight perpendicular line
+down the middle of each page, so as to divide it into columns. When it
+is finished, enclose it in an envelope, direct, and seal it, and put on
+a post-office stamp. If the manuscript occupies two or three sheets, put
+two or three stamps side by side. There are large envelopes that will
+hold foolscap paper, properly folded.</p>
+
+<p>Do not use <i>blue</i> ink; for if any part of your manuscript should chance
+to get wet, there is a risk of the blue ink being effaced or obliterated
+by the damp, so as to render the writing illegible; and this has
+frequently happened.</p>
+
+<p>Let your writing be large enough, and plain enough to be read with ease,
+and the compositor will be less likely to make mistakes. Printers,
+though accustomed to read all sorts of writing, are sometimes completely
+at a loss in deciphering a very bad hand. There is no excuse for a
+person in respectable life persisting in writing illegibly, as it is
+never too late to improve. You have only to take lessons of a good
+instructor, and apply yourself sedulously to acquiring a new hand, and
+you will succeed in doing so.</p>
+
+<p>Do not, in writing for the press, affect the crow-quill calligraphy that
+is fashionable for album verses and complimentary billets. When your
+manuscript is finished, sew the leaves <i>evenly</i> together, with nothing
+more than a strong thread; or, if it is very thick, it may be sewed with
+a fine twine put into a large needle. A handsome cover, daintily
+fastened with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> pretty ribbon, is of no account in a printing-office,
+where the first thing that is done with a manuscript is to remove the
+cover, and cut the leaves loose from the fastening. The printers will
+gladly dispense with covers, ribbons, and fairy-like penmanship, in
+favour of a plain legible hand, pages regularly numbered, and leaves
+written on one side only.</p>
+
+<p>In commencing a manuscript, write the title or caption in large letters,
+at some distance from the top of the first page; and if you are not
+anonymous, put your name a little below the title. Then begin the
+<i>first</i> line of the first paragraph, several inches distant from the
+left-hand side, or margin. In this manner commence every paragraph. The
+length of the paragraphs may be regulated by the time when you think a
+pause longer than that of a period or full stop may be effective; or to
+give the reader an opportunity of resting for a minute; or to denote the
+commencement of another subject.</p>
+
+<p>In writing a dialogue, begin every separate speech with a capital, and
+commence each speech on a new line, and at some distance from the
+left-hand margin. Also mark the beginning and end of every speech with
+double commas. If the names of the speakers are given at the
+<i>commencement</i> of every speech, write those names in <i>large</i> letters,
+putting a dot and a dash after them. All these arrangements are the same
+in writing as in printing.</p>
+
+<p>If you are, unfortunately, not familiar with the rules of punctuation,
+refresh your memory by referring to them in a grammar-book. They must
+be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> strictly observed; otherwise your meaning will be unintelligible.
+Always remember that every period or full stop, and every note of
+interrogation, or of admiration, must be followed by a capital letter,
+beginning the next word. Dashes, particularly in a dialogue, add much to
+the effect, if not used too lavishly.</p>
+
+<p>Errors of orthography are rarely committed by any one who presumes to
+write for the press. It is scarcely possible for a person who reads much
+to spell incorrectly, as the appearance of the printed words becomes
+insensibly and indelibly fixed in the mind. Still it may be well to
+write with a dictionary on your table, in case you should have any doubt
+as to the proper spelling and meaning of a word with which you may not
+be very familiar.</p>
+
+<p>Keep also a grammar on your table. Grammatical errors are annoying to
+the reader, and disgraceful to the writer, unless it is well known that
+she has not had the advantage of an education, even at a common school.
+Then she is to be pitied. But it is never too late to study grammar, and
+she had best do so before she ventures to write for the public. If she
+writes ungrammatically, how must she talk! In a work of fiction it is
+shocking to have lords and ladies, or the noble and dignified hero, and
+the elegant and refined heroine, conversing in "bad grammar," because
+the author knew no better. Yet such books we have seen. There are,
+luckily, not many of them. But there should be none.</p>
+
+<p>Every morning, previous to commencing your task, revise carefully all
+that you have written on the preceeding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> day, and correct and alter
+whatever you may deem susceptible of improvement. Some authors revise
+every page as soon as they have written it. But, unless you are much
+pressed for time, it is best to do this next morning, when your
+perceptions are fresh and clear. In crossing or blotting out, do it
+effectually, so that the original words may not appear through, and
+remain still legible. If you find that you have omitted a word, or if
+you wish to change one word for another, interline it; inserting the new
+word just above the line to which it belongs, and placing <ins title="Transcriber's Note: mark appears as an upside-down V">this mark &#8743;</ins>
+below. Lay aside each page as you finish it. Be particular in numbering
+every page; and it is best to do this before you begin, placing the
+number near the top of the right-hand corner. Let not your lines be too
+close, or there will not be space enough for legible interlining.</p>
+
+<p>If the publisher lives in your own town, it will be sufficient to roll
+up the manuscript in clean white paper, twisted at each end, and wafered
+in the middle. But however short the distance, write on the outside of
+the paper the full direction of the publishing office; that, in case of
+its being dropped in the street, any person finding it may know exactly
+where to take it.</p>
+
+<p>In putting up a large manuscript, in a packet for transmission to a
+distant place, use strong nankeen paper for the cover, and secure it
+with wafers, or paste, if it is to go a voyage in a steamer, as a wax
+seal may be melted by the heat of the fire. If it will reach its
+destination in a few hours, you may seal it with wax, having tied red
+tape about. Do not use<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> twine, as that may cut the paper. Newspapers are
+generally put up in a brownish paper cover, pasted at the side and
+bottom, with one end left open.</p>
+
+<p>Postage is now so cheap, that manuscripts had best always be transmitted
+by mail; putting a sufficient number of stamps on the outside, all close
+to each other.</p>
+
+<p>Few women can write well enough for publication, without going twice
+over the subject; first in what is called the rough copy, and then
+making a fair copy with all the original errors corrected, and all
+proper alterations inserted. If you have time, make <i>two</i> fair copies;
+one for the printer, and one to keep for yourself, in case the other
+should be accidentally destroyed or lost&mdash;retaining it till after the
+work is actually in print. Much postage is wasted, and much annoyance is
+given to the editors of periodicals, by applications for the restoration
+of unpublished verses, and other "Rejected Addresses," consisting,
+perhaps, of a sheet of poetry, or a few pages of prose, of which it
+would have been very easy to have made another copy for the author's
+keeping.</p>
+
+<p>In writing articles for Annuals, let it be remembered that the printing
+of these books is always completed some months before they are published
+or announced for sale. Therefore, all contributions should be sent to
+the publisher before February, or March at farthest. For a magazine,
+they should be transmitted at least two months in advance. For a weekly
+paper, two weeks ahead.</p>
+
+<p>Those who write for periodicals should remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> that it is the custom
+to address all letters on compensations, copies of work, &amp;c. to the
+publisher; and not to the editor, who seldom has any concern in the
+pecuniary affairs, his business being solely to receive, and read the
+manuscripts, to accept or reject them, and to arrange them for the
+press. It is not usual for the compensation to be paid till after the
+book is published. Some publishers send to every contributor one copy of
+the work. Others do not present a copy when the article is very
+short&mdash;for instance, a few stanzas of verse. Prose obtains a higher
+price than poetry, of which there is always a superabundance in the
+market. Much poetry is published without any pay at all; the writers
+being contented with seeing their effusions in print. No <i>good</i> author
+has any occasion to write gratuitously. A "merely passable" or "just
+tolerable" writer of poetry or fiction, should give up the inventive
+line, and try something else&mdash;something for which genius is not
+indispensable; and from which, by patience and industry, a sort of
+living may be wrought out.</p>
+
+<p>In composing poetry, a common, but unpardonable fault is that of
+introducing a lame or halting line&mdash;a line with one syllable too many,
+or too few. And if the author does not understand that it is an
+intolerable blemish, and sends it uncorrected to the press, she is
+unworthy of being called a poetess. We are inclined to believe that no
+person devoid of an ear for music, can write poetry deserving of the
+name. The ideas may be good, but the lines will have no melody, and will
+move harshly and ruggedly, very much like rough prose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Some writers seem to think that blank verse is nothing but prose with a
+capital at the beginning of each line; never having learnt or remembered
+that though the lines do not rhyme, they must all comprise ten
+syllables, (syllables, not words,) otherwise the effect when read, will,
+to even a tolerable ear, be absolutely painful. We saw a play, (the
+first attempt of a since distinguished dramatist,) the dialogue of which
+was unintelligible to the audience, and nearly impracticable to the
+actors, who found it absolutely beyond their skill to enunciate; or
+rather beneath it. We afterward heard the manager of the Chestnut-street
+Theatre explain, that the difficulty, both with the speakers and the
+hearers, was the execrable blank verse in which the play was written;
+some of the lines containing but seven or eight syllables, (instead of
+ten,) and some twelve or fourteen. A very few English authors write
+irregular blank verse; but we are sorry to say that a great many
+Americans do not seem to understand the process, simple as it is, of
+confining themselves to ten syllables only,&mdash;neither more nor less. Can
+they have read Shakspeare?</p>
+
+<p>There is no blank verse in French poetry. That language seems incapable
+of it.</p>
+
+<p>If you are writing for a periodical, and are desirous of ascertaining
+before-hand how many pages your manuscript will make when printed, take,
+at random, any printed page of the work, and copy it in your usual hand,
+and on a sheet of the same paper you intend using throughout. You will
+thus, by comparison, be able to judge with tolerable accuracy,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> how much
+of your writing will make a page when printed.</p>
+
+<p>Keep a memorandum-book for the express purpose of setting down whatever
+relates to your literary affairs. Insert the day when you commenced a
+manuscript, the day when you finished it, and the day on which it went
+to the publisher. Also, the whole number of its pages. When you see it
+in print, put down the number of its printed pages. In this book, set
+down, <i>immediately on receiving them</i>, whatever sums are paid to you for
+your writings.</p>
+
+<p>If you are a writer of fiction, have a large book for memorandums, of
+any amusing or remarkable things you may chance to hear, and which you
+may turn to account afterward. If you write truth only, keep a book for
+the reception of useful or interesting facts. A written book of names,
+alphabetically arranged, (surnames and Christian names,) will be of
+great advantage in selecting appellations for your characters. Do not
+give elegant names to your common people; or to your patrician
+characters names that are coarse and vulgar. A fault in Dickens is that
+nearly all his names are rugged, uncouth, and ill-sounding, and seldom
+characteristic. Why should a very excellent and generous brother and
+sister be called Tom Pinch and Ruth Pinch. What did they pinch?</p>
+
+<p>There is a proof-reader in every printing-office, but after he has done,
+the proofs are generally sent to the author for farther revisal.</p>
+
+<p>In correcting proof-sheets, first see that they are quite dry. Draw your
+pen through any word you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> desire to change, and then write the new word
+on the margin, placing it even with the line of the rejected word. When
+you alter the punctuation, converting a comma into a semicolon, or a
+period into a note of admiration, make a slight mark on the margin of
+that line, that the printer may not overlook it. If you have occasion to
+change a whole sentence, cross it out, and put the new sentence on the
+margin at the bottom of the page.</p>
+
+<p>If the printer's boy can wait, you had best correct the proofs while he
+stays.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2>
+
+<h3>CHILDREN.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Miss Edgworth says that the education of a child begins at three months
+old. It is true that both bad and good habits may seem to commence at
+this early age; but we do not believe that in so slight a soil they take
+a very deep root, or that what is called a cross baby is sure to grow up
+an ill-tempered adult. Infants, when they are not really sick,
+frequently cry from some incidental annoyance, and not from a fretful
+disposition. If they feel comfortably they will usually be good-humoured
+and pleasant. Much of their comfort is sacrificed to the vanity of the
+mother in dressing them fashionably and expensively. We knew a baby that
+was very good in the morning, but very cross in the afternoon, or when
+dressed for show. And no wonder, for in her show-costume she was
+tortured with necklace, sleeve-loops, and bracelets of fine branchy, or
+rather briary coral, scratching and irritating her delicate skin, and
+leaving the print in red marks. On our representing this to the mother
+as the probable cause of the baby's fretfulness, the thorny ornaments
+were left off, and the child became amiable. Gold chains are also very
+irritating to the neck and arms of an infant. Coral beads of a smooth
+round form,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> strung evenly on a simple thread of silk, without any
+intermingling of gold chain, are, perhaps, the most comfortable
+necklaces for children, and are also very becoming; but as they are not
+expensive, they are of course not fashionable.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, the days of worked caps are over. Young ladies are no
+longer expected to cover pieces of cambric with elaborate cotton
+embroidery for the babies of their married friends, and the tender heads
+of the babies are no longer chafed with rough needle-work rubbing
+incessantly upon them, or heated with a silk lining to the cambric
+already thickened all over with close, heavy patterns. We wish also that
+mothers, generally, were less proud of seeing their babies with
+"luxuriant heads of hair," which if it has no natural tendency to curl,
+disfigures the child and gives it a wild, ungenteel look. If it does
+curl, it still heats the head and neck, and is said to draw away much
+strength from the system. The most healthy infants we have seen, had
+very little hair, or it was judiciously kept closely cut. To curl
+children's hair in papers is barbarous. They pay dearly for the glory of
+appearing in ringlets during the day, if they are made to pass their
+nights lying upon a mass of hard, rough bobs, about as pleasant as if
+they had their heads in a bag of hickory-nuts. But then the mother has
+the gratification of hearing their curls admired!</p>
+
+<p>Among other sufferings inflicted on babies is that of sending them out
+in bleak winter days with brimless hats, that, so far from screening
+their faces from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> cold wind, do not even afford the slightest shade
+to their eyes, which are winking and watering all the time from the
+glare of the sun and snow. We have seen false curls pinned to these
+babies' hats, and dangling in their eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Another detestable practice is that of making the waists of children's
+frocks ridiculously long and painfully tight; particularly over the
+chest and body, which are thus pressed flat, to the utter ruin of the
+figure, and the risk of producing incurable diseases&mdash;such as
+consumption of the lungs, and projection of the spine; to say nothing of
+the various complaints connected with the stomach, which is thus
+squeezed into half its natural compass. Also, the sleeve-holes are so
+small and tight as to push up the shoulders. Then the hips are pressed
+downward far below their proper place, and the legs are consequently in
+danger of becoming short and bandy. Is it possible this vile fashion can
+continue much longer?&mdash;and are "the rising generation" really to grow up
+with high shoulders, round backs, flat chests, bodies that seem longer
+than their legs, and hips almost where their knees ought to be?</p>
+
+<p>Also, these limbs must suffer from cold in winter with no other covering
+than cotton stockings, the skirts of the dress scarcely reaching to the
+knees&mdash;the little boys disfigured with the ugliest of all garments,
+short knee-breeches.</p>
+
+<p>Add to all the rest of these abominations, tight boots with peaked toes,
+and can we wonder that children, even beyond the period of infancy,
+should, at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> times, be cross, irritable, and unamiable. How can they be
+otherwise, when they seldom feel comfortably? Then, if the parents can
+afford it, (or whether or not,) the unhappy children are bedizened with
+all manner of expensive finery, and interdicted from romping, lest they
+should injure it. But, what matter if the children suffer&mdash;the mother's
+vanity <i>must</i> be gratified, and she <i>must</i> have the delight of seeing
+that her boys and girls are as fashionably dressed as the little
+Thomsons and Wilsons and Jacksons.</p>
+
+<p>We look back with regret to the days when little girls, as well as boys,
+wore their hair closely cropped; convenient and cool, and showing to
+advantage the form of the head, till they were twelve or thirteen&mdash;and
+they wore only washable dresses, descending far below the knees, and
+with pantalets down to their <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'ancles'">ankles</ins>. In summer their frocks had short
+wide sleeves, and were <i>not</i> close up to the throat. The bodies were of
+a natural length, the outside gathered full upon a moderately tight
+lining. If there is no lining to a full frock-body it will puff out at
+the back and front, and give the waist a look of deformity before and
+behind. Then the little girls went out in close cottage-bonnets of straw
+in summer, and beaver in winter&mdash;shading and screening their faces&mdash;and
+were kept warm when out of doors with long wide cloaks or coats of cloth
+or merino, instead of the fantastic short things now worn, with open
+sleeves and open fronts. Then, when at home, how innocent and childlike
+they looked in their long-sleeved convenient bib-aprons!&mdash;so much better
+than the short silk ones now worn,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> trimmed and bordered and ribboned,
+and rendered so fine that the children are expected to be as careful of
+injuring their showy aprons as of soiling their showy frocks.</p>
+
+<p>Formerly, children learned to play various amusing games, such as "Hot
+buttered beans," "Blind-man's <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'buff'">bluff</ins>," &amp;c. Now their play is chiefly
+running and squealing, and chasing each other about, without any
+definite object, except that of making a noise. Then, at a juvenile
+party, the amusement was chiefly in the varieties of these entertaining
+games. Now it is dancing&mdash;for as many as can find places to dance&mdash;and
+nothing at all for those who cannot, but to grow tired and sleepy. In
+former times, children's parties commenced at two o'clock in the
+afternoon in winter, and at four in summer. They played till they were
+summoned to a large and well-supplied tea-table, and were sent for to
+come home by eight o'clock, being then quite tired enough to go to bed
+and sleep soundly, and waken with pleasant recollections of yesterday.
+If the party was very large, the elder children sat round the room, and
+tea, &amp;c. was handed to them, while the little ones were accommodated at
+a table where the hostess presided. The children of that time really
+enjoyed these parties, and so would those of the present time, if they
+could have such. The juvenile-party dress was then but a simple white
+muslin frock with a ribbon sash. We have since seen little girls at a
+summer party steadfastly refuse strawberries and cream, in obedience to
+the interdiction of their mothers; who had enjoined them to do so, lest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
+they should stain or otherwise injure their elegant silk dresses.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, it is no longer fashionable for mothers to take their
+children with them on morning visits. On these occasions small children
+rarely behave well. They soon grow tired, and restless, and begin
+teazing to go somewhere else. Their presence is (or ought to be) a
+restraint on conversation, as much may be said during a visit that is
+not well for them to hear. They comprehend certain things far more
+easily than is supposed. Great mischief has ensued from allowing
+children to sit and listen; and there is no dependence on their
+discretion or secrecy.</p>
+
+<p>It is not well to put a small child "through its facings," by trying to
+make it exhibit any of its little feats before strangers. They are
+generally very reluctant to make this exhibition. Sometimes they are
+bashful, sometimes perverse; but if the mother persists in her attempt
+to show them off, it will probably prove a complete failure, and end in
+a cry, or that outbreak usually called a tantrum. By-the-bye, there is
+no better way of stopping a tantrum than quietly to divert the child's
+attention to something else.</p>
+
+<p>Beware of trusting an infant, too confidingly, to an European nurse; and
+when she carries out the baby, it would be well if an older sister or
+the mother herself could go along. Instead of carrying it to one of the
+public squares, or to some other place where there is air and shade, she
+may take it into dirty alleys, on a visit to some of her own relations,
+perhaps newly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> arrived in an emigrant ship, with the filth and diseases
+of a steerage passage still about them. This we know to have been done,
+and the child has in consequence taken a disgusting disease. Or,
+believing it a meritorious act, an Irish nurse may secretly carry the
+infant to a priest, and have it baptized in the Catholic church, herself
+standing godmother. Of this there have been numerous instances. Young
+children frequently acquire, from being too much with ignorant and
+vulgar nurses, bad habits of talking that are exceedingly difficult to
+eradicate&mdash;so lasting are early impressions. We have heard an Irish
+brogue from infantine lips; and the letter H sadly misused by the
+American nursling of a low Englishwoman. Above all, do not permit your
+own children to play with the children of their nurse. No good ever
+accrues from it.</p>
+
+<p>Children should not be brought to table till they are able to feed
+themselves, first with a spoon, and next with a fork. And not then,
+unless they can be depended on to keep quiet, and not talk. The
+chattering of children all dinner-time is a great annoyance to grown
+people. The shrill voice of a child can be distinguished annoyingly amid
+those of a whole company. They should be made to understand that if they
+talk at table, they are to be immediately taken away to finish their
+dinner in the nursery. On no consideration should they be admitted to
+table when there is a dinner-party. The foolish custom of having all the
+children dressed for the purpose, and brought in with the dessert, is
+now obsolete. It never was very prevalent, except in England.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We have seen children so well and so early trained that they could be
+trusted to come to table every day without the least fear of their
+misbehaving by talking or otherwise. They sat quietly, asked for
+nothing, took contentedly whatever was put on their plates, made no
+attempt at helping themselves, and neither greased nor slopped the
+table-cloth; and when done, wiped their mouths and hands on their
+napkins, before they quitted their chairs, which they did at a sign from
+their mother; going out without noise, and neither leaving the door open
+nor slamming it hard. It is very easy to accustom children to these
+observances. Also, they may be taught very early, how to behave to
+visiters. For instance, not to pass between them and the fire, not to
+hang on the back of a lady's chair; or to squeeze close to her; or to
+get on her lap; or to finger her dress; or to search her reticule, or
+her pocket; or to ask a stranger for pennies or sixpences; or to tell
+her that she is not pretty; or to enquire "why she wears such an ugly
+bonnet?"</p>
+
+<p>We have known a fine little boy, not three years old, who, on the
+entrance of a friend of his mother's, would haul up a chair for her, and
+invite her to a seat near the fire, place a footstool at her feet, ask
+her to let him take her bonnet, and invite her to stay to dinner, to
+stay all day, and to "stay for ever," adding, "I try to be polite."</p>
+
+<p>There are very little girls who, if their mother is from home, can do
+the honours in her place; seat the visiter on the sofa, and press her to
+stay till their mother comes in; and if the lady declines doing so,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
+they will ask her at least to stay awhile, and rest herself, and have a
+glass of cool water; and while she stays, they will do their best to
+entertain her. Such children always grow up with polished manners, if
+not removed from the influence that made them so in early life.</p>
+
+<p>Children should be early taught not to repeat the conversation of grown
+persons, and never to tell the servants any thing they have heard in the
+parlour. When they come home from school, they ought not to be
+encouraged in telling school-tales. If they dine out, never question
+them concerning what they had for dinner. Forbid their relating any
+circumstances concerning the domestic economy of the house at which they
+have been entertained.</p>
+
+<p>If a child purloins cakes or sweetmeats, punish him by giving him none
+the next time they are on table.</p>
+
+<p>At four years of age, a beginning should be made in teaching them to
+read, by hearing them the alphabet every day till they have learned it
+perfectly; and afterwards the first spelling-tables. With a quarter of
+an hour's daily instruction, a child of common capacity will, in six
+months, be able to spell in two or three syllables, and to read short
+easy stories with the syllables divided. At the end of the year, if her
+lessons are regular, and not so long as to tire her, she will, in all
+probability, take pleasure in reading to herself, when her lessons are
+over. Were they taught <i>out of story-books only</i>, there are few children
+that at the age of six years would find any difficulty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> in reading
+fluently. If <i>very</i> intelligent, they often can read well at five. When
+they can once read, encourage them in the love of books; but do not set
+them at any other branch of education till they are eight. Then, their
+hands being strong enough to guide the pen firmly, they may commence
+writing copies. They should be supplied with slates and pencils at three
+years old. If they have any dormant talent for drawing, this will call
+it out. Little girls may begin to sew at four or five, but only as an
+amusement, not as a task. The best and most satisfactory dolls for young
+children are those of linen or rag, made very substantially. Much money
+is wasted in toys that afford them no amusement whatever; and toys that,
+being merely to look at, they grow tired of immediately, and delight in
+breaking to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>Never give an infant a book to play with. He will most assuredly tear
+it; that being the only amusement it can afford him. It is possible at a
+very early age to teach a tractable female child such a respect for
+books that she will never attempt to injure them. When they are old
+enough to take pleasure in looking at the pictures, it is easy to
+accustom them to be always satisfied with the books being shown to them
+in the hands of grown persons. Do not buy those books that have absurd
+and revolting prints of people with gigantic heads and diminutive
+bodies. Children always dislike them, and so they ought.</p>
+
+<p>Rejoice when a little girl shows a fondness for reading, and by all
+means encourage it. Keep her well supplied with good and entertaining
+books, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> you will have little trouble with her. Do not needlessly
+interrupt, and call her off&mdash;but let her read in peace. It will do her
+more good than any thing else, and lay the foundation of an intelligent
+mind. A taste for reading, if not formed in early childhood, may perhaps
+never come at all. And then what a solace it is in bodily illness! How
+patiently a reading child, whose mind is stored with "pleasant
+memories," can bear pain, and submit to the confinement of a sick-bed.
+We have known more than one instance of the illness of a reading child
+taking a turn for the better, from the time she was indulged with an
+amusing and interesting book.</p>
+
+<p>There is no place in which children appear to greater disadvantage or
+are less ungovernable than at hotels or boarding-houses. We are always
+sorry when the circumstances of parents oblige them permanently to live
+thus in public, with their young families, who are consequently brought
+up in a manner which cannot but have an unfavourable effect in forming
+the characters of the future men and women. By way of variety, and that
+they may not always be confined up-stairs, the children are encouraged,
+or at least permitted by their mothers, to spend much of their time in
+the drawing-room, regardless of the annoyance which their noise and
+romping never fails to inflict upon the legitimate occupants of that
+apartment. The parents, loving their children too much to be incommoded
+themselves by any thing that their offspring can say or do, seem not
+aware that they can possibly interrupt or trouble the rest of the
+company. Or else,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> conscious of their own inability to control them,
+they are afraid to check the children lest they should turn restive,
+rebel, or break out into a tantrum. "Any thing for the sake of peace,"
+is a very foolish maxim where juveniles are concerned. By being firm
+once or twice, and dismissing them from the room when they deserve it,
+you may have peace ever after. The noisiest and most inconvenient time
+to have children in a public parlour is in the interval between their
+tea and their bed-time. Some children have no bed-time. And when they
+are tired of scampering and shouting, they lie about sleeping on the
+sofas, and cry if they are finally wakened, to go up with their mother
+when she retires for the night.</p>
+
+<p>Still worse is the practice that prevails in some hotels and
+boarding-houses, of the mothers sending the nurse-maids with the babies,
+to sit in the drawing-room among the ladies; who are thus liable to have
+a vulgar and obtrusive servant-girl, most probably "from the old
+country," boldly taking her seat in the midst of them, or conspicuously
+occupying one of the front-windows; either keeping up a perpetual
+undercurrent of fulsome, foolish talk to the baby, or listening eagerly
+to the conversation around her, and, perhaps, repeating it invidiously
+as soon as she gets an opportunity. If one lady sends her nurse-maid to
+sit in the drawing-room with the child, all the other mothers of babies
+immediately follow suit, and the drawing-room becomes a mere nursery.</p>
+
+<p>Every hotel should have a commodious and airy parlour set apart entirely
+for the children and nurses.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> The proprietors could easily afford to
+keep one good room for that purpose, if they would expend a little less
+on the finery of the parlours, &amp;c. We have heard of an embroidered
+piano-cover, in a great hotel, costing fourteen hundred dollars, and the
+children pulling it down and dragging it about the floor. With a
+piano-cover of the usual cost, and other things less ostentatious, a
+children's parlour might well have been afforded in this very
+establishment.</p>
+
+<p>At a hotel, if the children come to the ladies' table, they are always
+in danger of eating food that is highly improper for them, and they very
+soon learn to help themselves to much more than they want, and to eat
+voraciously, in their desire to "have something of every thing." There
+is always a table purposely for those children whose parents pay
+half-price for them; and at which the housekeeper presides. However good
+this table may be, and though the pies and puddings may be excellent,
+the mothers are frequently dissatisfied with the absence of ice-cream,
+blanc-mange, charlotte-russe, &amp;c., though certainly, were they in houses
+of their own, they would not have such things every day. Therefore,
+though it is "not in the bond," the mothers carry away from the table
+saucers of these delicacies, and the children learn to expect a daily
+supply of them from the ladies' dining-room. This, we must say, is a
+mean practice. We have, however, known some mothers, who, really being
+"honourable women," sent every day to a confectioner's to <i>buy</i>
+ice-cream for their children.</p>
+
+<p>There is danger at a hotel of little boys loitering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> about the bar or
+office, encouraged by unthinking young men, who give them "tastes of
+drink," and even amuse themselves by teaching them to smoke segars.</p>
+
+<p>And no children, either boys or girls, can live at a public house
+without hearing and seeing much that it is best they should not know.
+The English travellers deprecate the American practice of bringing up
+young people in hotels or boarding-houses. And they are right.</p>
+
+<p>When a lady, having with her a young child, and no nurse-maid, stops for
+a day at a hotel, she can avoid the inconvenience of taking the child
+with her to table, and incommoding herself and all who sit near her. She
+has only to entrust the little traveller to a chambermaid up-stairs;
+directing the girl how to take care of it, and promising her a gratuity
+for her trouble. She will rarely have cause to regret such an
+arrangement. It will spare the annoyance and mortification of having the
+child make a noise at table, and perhaps compelling the mother to go
+away with it.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2>
+
+<h3>DECORUM IN CHURCH.</h3>
+
+
+<p>We wish it were less customary to go to church in gay and costly
+habiliments, converting its sacred precincts into a place for the
+display of finery, and of rivalry to your equally bedizened neighbours.
+In many Catholic countries,<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> a peculiar costume is universally adopted
+for visiting a place of worship&mdash;a very plain gown of entire black, with
+a long, black cloak, and a black hood finished with a veil that shades
+the face. This dress is kept for the purpose of wearing at church. We
+highly approve the custom, and wish that something similar could be
+introduced into the United States&mdash;particularly on the solemn occasions
+of taking the communion, or being confirmed as a Christian member. We
+have known young ladies to have elegant dresses made on purpose, and to
+get their hair dressed by a barber when preparing for confirmation.</p>
+
+<p>In a Sacred Melody of Moore's, St. Jerome tells us&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i0">"Yet worldly is that heart at best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which beats beneath a broider'd veil;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she who comes in glittering vest<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To mourn her frailty&mdash;still is frail."<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p>
+<p>Endeavour always to be in your pew before the service commences, and do
+not hurry out of it, hastily, the moment the benediction is finished; or
+begin visibly to prepare for departure as soon as it commences. Stay
+quietly till the mass of the crowd has gone.</p>
+
+<p>If you go into a strange church, or rather into a church where you are a
+stranger, wait in the vestibule till you see the sexton; and then
+request him to show you to a vacant seat, or rather to one which he
+believes will be that day unoccupied&mdash;for instance, if the family owning
+it is out of town. This is far better than to wander about the aisles
+alone, or to intrude yourself into a pew where you may cause
+inconvenience to its owners. If you see that a pew is full, you know, of
+course, that you cannot obtain a seat in it without dislodging somebody.</p>
+
+<p>Yet we have seen many a lady, on entering a church in which she was a
+stranger, walk boldly up the middle aisle to one of the best pews near
+the pulpit, and pertinaciously stand there, looking steadfastly at its
+rightful occupants, till one of them quitted his own seat, and gave it
+up to her, seeking for himself another place wherever he could find one.
+Those who go to strange churches should be contented with seats near the
+door; or at the lower end of the side-aisles; or up in the gallery.</p>
+
+<p>If a family invites you to go to church with them, or to come thither,
+and have a seat in their pew, do not take the liberty of asking a friend
+of your own to accompany you; and above all, do not bring a child with
+you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Should you (having a pew of your own) ask another lady to go with you,
+call for her in due time; and she ought to be quite ready. Place her in
+a corner-seat, (it being the most comfortable,) and see that she is
+accommodated with a foot-stool; and be assiduous in finding the places
+for her in the prayer-book, or hymn-book.</p>
+
+<p>In American churches there is much civility to strangers. We have often
+seen, when a person of respectable appearance was in quest of a seat,
+the doors of half a dozen pews kindly opened to admit him, and, as soon
+as he entered, a prayer-book offered to him open at the proper place.</p>
+
+<p>No good can result from taking children to church when they are too
+young to read, or to understand. They are always eager to go, because
+they like to go everywhere; but when once seated in the pew, they soon
+become tired and restless; and frequently there is no way to keep them
+quiet, but to let them go to sleep in the lap of the mother or elder
+sister. And then they are apt to cry whenever they waken. If there are
+two little boys, they are prone to get to playing, or what is far worse,
+quarrelling. And then if they make a noise, some elder member of the
+family is subjected to the mortification of conveying them out of
+church&mdash;perhaps by desire of the minister audibly expressed from the
+pulpit. We know clergymen who do not permit their children to be taken
+to church till they can read&mdash;convinced that if their first
+recollections of a place of worship are rather painful than pleasant,
+they are the less likely to grow up with a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> due regard for
+religion&mdash;that is, for religion of the heart&mdash;the spirit, and not merely
+the letter.</p>
+
+<p>We are sorry to see young ladies, on their way to church, laughing and
+talking loudly, and flirting with the beaux that are gallanting them
+thither. It is too probable that these beaux will occupy a large share
+of their thoughts during the hours of worship. Nay, there are some so
+irreverent, and so regardless of the sanctity of the place, as to
+indulge in frequent whispers to those near them, or to their friends in
+the adjoining pews.</p>
+
+<p>A lady of high fashion and fortune, formerly a resident of Philadelphia,
+was noted for the scandalous lightness and levity of her behaviour in
+church&mdash;laughing and talking, in more than whispers, nearly all the
+time, to the idle young men whom she always brought with her, and who,
+to do them justice, sometimes seemed rather ashamed of her conduct. Her
+pew was directly in front of the pulpit. One Sunday morning, Bishop
+White gave her a severe and merited rebuke, by stopping in his sermon,
+fixing his eyes sadly upon her, and bowing to her, as an intimation that
+till she had ceased he could not go on. We are sorry to add that the
+reproof had no other effect than to excite her anger, and caused her
+immediately to go out of church, highly exasperated. That lady went to
+live in Europe, and has not yet become a good woman, but greatly the
+contrary.</p>
+
+<p>"The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before
+him," was the solemn and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> impressive inscription over the altar of St.
+Augustine's church in Philadelphia.</p>
+
+<p>In visiting a church of a different denomination from your own, comply,
+as far as you can, with all the ceremonies observed by the congregation,
+particularly if you are in a foreign country. Even if some of these
+observances are not the least in conformity with your own opinions and
+feelings, remember that you are there as a guest, and have no right to
+offend or give displeasure to your hosts by evincing a marked
+disapprobation of their mode of worship. If you find it very irksome to
+refrain, (which it should not be,) you need not go a second time. Every
+religious sect believes its own faith to be the best; but God only knows
+which really is. Christ has said, "By their fruits ye shall know them."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2>
+
+<h3>EVENING PARTIES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>Having made out a list of the persons you intend to invite, proceed to
+write the notes; or have them written in a neat, handsome hand, by an
+experienced calligrapher. Fashion, in its various changes, sometimes
+decrees that these notes, and their envelopes, shall be perfectly plain,
+(though always of the finest paper,) and that the wax seals shall of
+course be very small. At other times, the mode is to write on embossed
+note paper, with bordered envelopes, secured by fancy wafers,
+transparent, medallion, gold or silver. If the seals are gold or silver,
+the edges or borders of the paper should be also gilt or silvered.
+Sometimes, for a very large or splendid party, the notes are engraved
+and printed on cards. Consult the Directory, to obtain the <i>exact</i>
+address of those to whom you send them.</p>
+
+<p>These invitations may be transmitted by one of the City post offices;
+first putting a stamp on each. Let the stamps be such as will leave
+nothing additional to be paid by the receiver. If they go through the
+United States Post-Office, the carrier will require another cent for
+each, beside the stamp. In Philadelphia,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> Blood's Dispatch Post may be
+trusted, as to punctuality, (if faithfully put into the letter-box at
+the proper time;) and there is no cost but that of the penny stamp which
+you put on yourself.</p>
+
+<p>Another way is to send round the notes by a reliable servant-man of your
+own; or to engage, for this purpose, one of the public waiters that are
+hired to attend at parties. The notes are usually sent either eight,
+seven, or six days before the party&mdash;if it is to be very large, ten days
+or two weeks. In the notes, always specify not only the day of the week,
+but also the day of the month, when the party is to take place. It is
+very customary now to designate the hour of assembling, and then the
+company are expected to be punctual to that time. People, <i>really
+genteel</i>, do not go ridiculously late. When a ball is intended, let the
+word "Dancing" be introduced in small letters, at the lower left-hand
+corner of the note.</p>
+
+<p>For a bridal party, subsequent to a wedding, the words now used are
+thus&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Mr. and Mrs. S. M. Morland</span>,</span>
+<span class="i4">At Home, on Thursday evening, Sept. 22, 1853.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Their residence must be given beneath, in a corner, and in smaller
+letters.</p>
+
+<p>Oblong slices of plumb-cake, iced all over, are now sent round in very
+pretty white card-board boxes, exactly fitting each slice, covered on
+the inside with lace-paper, and an engraved card of the bride and groom
+laid on the top of the cake. These boxes (to be had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> at the fancy
+stationers,) are of various prices; some of them are very elegant and
+costly.</p>
+
+<p>At wedding-parties, it is usual for the bride and bridesmaids to appear
+in exactly the same dresses they wore at the marriage; all of them
+ranged in their respective stations before the company begin to arrive.</p>
+
+<p>When the marriage-guests are not too numerous, it is customary to have
+all the company shown into the largest parlour, when they first arrive;
+the folding-doors being closed between. Meanwhile, the bride and groom,
+bridesmaids and groomsmen, with the heads of the family, arrange
+themselves in a line or a semi-circle; the most important personages in
+the centre, with the clergyman in front of them. When all is ready, the
+doors are thrown open, the guests advance, and the ceremony begins. When
+it is over, and the bride is receiving the compliments of her friends,
+we hope the silliest woman present will not go up and ask her the
+foolish question, "If she does not feel already like an old married
+woman?"</p>
+
+<p>A crowd at a wedding is now obsolete. We once heard of a marriage in a
+great family, where the company was so numerous that all the doors were
+blocked up, and quite inaccessible; and the bride could only make her
+entrance by being taken round outside, and lifted through a back
+window&mdash;the groom jumping in after her.</p>
+
+<p>Dancing at weddings is old-fashioned. A band of music playing in the
+hall is of no use, as on such occasions no one listens to it, and some
+complain of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> noise. We think a marriage in church is not as fine a
+spectacle as may be imagined. The effect is lost in the size of the
+building, and broken up by the intervention of the aisles and pews; the
+wedding guests seated in the latter, and the former occupied by people
+out of the street, coming in to see the show. And this they will do, if
+not forcibly excluded; particularly idle boys, and nurse-maids with
+children, all trying to get as near the altar as possible.</p>
+
+<p>If the bride and groom are to set out on a journey immediately after the
+ceremony, it is best for her to be married in a handsome
+travelling-dress&mdash;new for the occasion, of course. This is often done
+now. She can reserve the usual wedding costume for her first party after
+returning home.</p>
+
+<p>In preparing for a party, it is well (especially if you have had but
+little experience yourself,) to send for one of the <i>best</i> public
+waiters, and consult with him on the newest style of "doing these
+things." A respectable coloured man will be found the most efficient for
+this purpose. He can also give you an idea of the probable expense. We
+do not, of course, allude to magnificent entertainments, such as are
+celebrated in the newspapers, and become a nine days' wonder; and are
+cited as costing, not hundreds, but thousands of dollars.</p>
+
+<p>In case the required waiter should be pre-engaged, it is well to send
+for, and consult him, a week or two before your party.</p>
+
+<p>We knew a lady who, some years ago, sent for Carroll, (a very excellent
+mulatto man, well known in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> Philadelphia,) to officiate at a projected
+party. Carroll, in very polite terms, expressed that he was engaged for
+that identical evening to attend at a ball. "Then," said the lady, "you
+must try to furnish me with some one else, in your place. Where is
+Bogle?" "I know Bogle can't come," answered Carroll; "he is bespoke that
+night for a wedding." "Shepherd, then?" said the lady; "see if you
+cannot send me Shepherd." "As to Shepherd," replied Carroll, "he is sick
+in his bed, and like to keep so." "Where is Solomon King, then?" pursued
+the lady; "Solomon King will do very well." "Indeed, ma'am," answered
+Carroll, "I don't think Solomon King will suit you now, anyhow; he's
+taken very much to drink, and besides he's dead!"</p>
+
+<p>Apropos to the talk of coloured people.&mdash;We were told by a southern
+lady, that one of her girls being dressed for an entertainment given by
+a neighbour to the servants, came to her, and said: "Mistress, Becky has
+come for me to go with her; and she says <i>her</i> mistress has gave her two
+grand words to say at the party.&mdash;Now, I want you to give <i>me</i> two words
+that shall beat Becky's; for I know you are a heap smarter than <i>her</i>
+mistress."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell me the words given by Becky's mistress," said my informant.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am.&mdash;One is <i>Desdemona</i>, and one is <i>Cataplasm</i>!"</p>
+
+<p>No doubt, Becky, in some way, contrived to say them both.</p>
+
+<p>In engaging your presiding genius, it is well to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> desire him to come on
+the morning of the party; he will be found of great advantage in
+assisting with the final preparations. He will attend to the silver, and
+china, and glass; and see that the lamps are all in order, and that the
+fires, coal-grates, furnaces, &amp;c., are in proper trim for evening. He
+will bring with him (at whatever hour you indicate,) his "young men," as
+he calls them; (if coloured youths, they are too genteel to answer to
+the name of boys;) and these are his apprentices that he has in training
+for the profession.</p>
+
+<p>One of these men should be stationed in the vestibule, or just within
+the front door. On that evening, (if not at other times,) let this door
+be furnished with a lamp, placed on a shelf or bracket in the fan-light,
+to illumine the steps, and shine down upon the pavement, where the
+ladies cross it on alighting from the carriages. If the evening proves
+rainy, let another man attend with an umbrella, to assist in sheltering
+them on their way into the house. The ladies should all wear over-shoes,
+to guard their thin slippers from the damp, in their transit from the
+coach to the vestibule.</p>
+
+<p>At the top, or on the landing-place, of the first stair-case, let
+another man be posted, to show the female guests to their dressing-room;
+while still another waiter stays near the gentlemen's room till the
+company have done arriving.</p>
+
+<p>In the apartment prepared as a fixing-room for the ladies two or more
+women should be all the evening in attendance; both rooms being well
+warmed, well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> lighted, and furnished with all that may be requisite for
+giving the last touches to head, feet, and figure, previous to entering
+the drawing-room. When ready to go down, the ladies meet their gentlemen
+in the passage between the respective dressing-rooms; the beaux being
+there already, waiting for the belles, who must not detain them
+long&mdash;men being very impatient on these, and all other occasions.</p>
+
+<p>If any lady is without an escort, and has no acquaintances at hand to
+take her under their wing, she should send for the master of the house
+to meet her near the door, and give her his arm into the drawing-room.
+He will then lead her to the hostess, and to a seat. Let her then bow,
+as a sign that she releases him from farther attendance, and leaves him
+at liberty to divide his civilities among his other guests.</p>
+
+<p>In the ladies' room, (beside two toilet glasses with their branches
+lighted,) let a Psyche or Cheval glass be also there. Likewise, a
+hand-mirror on each toilet to enable the ladies to see the back of their
+heads; with an ample supply of pins, combs, brushes, hair pins, &amp;c.; and
+a work-box containing needles, thread, thimble, and scissors, to repair
+accidents to articles of dress. Let there be bottles of fine eau de
+cologne, and camphor and hartshorn, in case of faintings. Among the
+furniture, have a sofa and several foot-stools, for the ladies to sit on
+if they wish to change their shoes.</p>
+
+<p>The women attending must take charge of the hoods, cloaks, shawls,
+over-shoes, &amp;c.; rolling up together the things that belong to each
+lady, and putting each bundle in some place they can easily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> remember
+when wanted at the breaking up of the assembly.</p>
+
+<p>It is now the custom for the lady of the house (and those of her own
+family,) to be dressed rather plainly, showing no desire to eclipse any of
+her guests, on this her own night. But her attire, though simple, should
+be handsome, becoming, and in good taste. Her business is, without any
+bustle or apparent officiousness, quietly and almost imperceptibly to
+try and render the evening as pleasant as possible to all her guests;
+introducing those who, though not yet acquainted, ought to be; and
+finding seats for ladies who are not young enough to continue standing.</p>
+
+<p>The custom that formerly prevailed in the absurd days of crowds and
+jams, when dense masses were squeezed into small apartments, of removing
+every seat and every piece of furniture from the room, is now obsolete.
+A hard squeeze is no longer a high boast. Genteel people no longer go to
+parties on the stair-case, or in the passages. The ladies are not now so
+compressed that nothing of them is seen but their heads; the sleeves,
+skirts, &amp;c., undergoing a continual demolition down below. We knew of a
+lady, who, at a late hour, went to a crowded party in a real blonde
+dress, which was rubbed entirely off her before she reached the centre
+of the room, and it was hanging about her satin skirt in shreds, like
+transparent rags dissolving into "air&mdash;thin air!" For this blonde she
+had given two hundred dollars; and she was obliged to go home and
+exchange its tatters for a costume that was likely to last out the
+evening.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In houses where space is not abundant, it is now customary to have
+several <i>moderate</i> parties in the course of the season, instead of
+inviting all your "dear five hundred friends" on the self-same night.</p>
+
+<p>When the hour of assembling is designated in the notes of invitation,
+(as it always should be,) the guests, of course, will take care to
+arrive as nearly as possible about that hour. At large parties, tea is
+usually omitted&mdash;it being supposed that every one has already taken that
+beverage at home, previous to commencing the business of the toilette.
+Many truly hospitable ladies still continue the custom, thinking that it
+makes a pleasant beginning to the evening, and exhilarates the ladies
+after the fatigue of dressing and arriving. So it does. For a large
+company, a table with tea, coffee, and cakes, may be set in the
+ladies-room, women being in attendance to supply the guests with those
+refreshments before they go down. Pitchers of ice-water and glasses
+should also be kept in this room.</p>
+
+<p>If there is no tea, the refreshments begin with lemonade, macaroons,
+kisses, &amp;c., sent round soon after the majority of the company has come.
+If there <i>is</i> tea, ice-water should be presented after it, to all;
+otherwise, there will be much inconvenience by numerous ladies
+dispatching the servants, separately, to bring them some.</p>
+
+<p>After a little time allotted to conversation, music is generally
+introduced by one of the ladies of the family, if she plays well;
+otherwise, she invites a competent friend to commence. A lady who can do
+nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> "without her notes," or who cannot read music, and play at
+sight, is scarcely enough of a musician to perform in a large
+company&mdash;for this incapacity is an evidence that she has not a good ear,
+or rather a good memory for melody&mdash;or that her musical talent wants
+more cultivation. A large party is no time or place for practising, or
+for risking <i>attempts</i> at new things, or for vainly trying to remember
+old ones.</p>
+
+<p>Some young ladies rarely sit down to a piano in any house but their own,
+without complaining that the instrument is out of tune. "It is a way
+they have." We have known a fair amateur to whom this complaint was
+habitual, and never omitted; even when we knew that, to provide against
+it, the piano had really been tuned that very day.</p>
+
+<p>The tuning of a harp immediately before playing is sometimes a very
+tedious business. Would it not be well for the harpist to come a little
+earlier than the rest, and tune it herself previous to their arrival?
+And let her deem <i>that</i> tuning sufficient for a while, and not repeat
+the operation more than once again in the course of the evening,
+especially in the midst of her first piece. However delicate may be her
+own ear, or exquisitely fastidious her own taste, she may be assured
+that few of her audience would detect any deficiency, if she only went
+quietly on, and did not herself imply that deficiency.</p>
+
+<p>Unless a gentleman is himself familiar with the air, let him not, on
+"mounting guard beside the piano," volunteer to turn over the pages for
+the lady who is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> playing. He will certainly turn them over too soon or
+too late, and therefore annoy and confuse her. Still worse, let him not
+attempt to accompany her with his voice, unless he is an excellent
+musician, or accustomed to singing with her.</p>
+
+<p>For the hearers to crowd closely round the instrument, is smothering to
+the vocalist. Let them keep at a proper distance, and she will sing the
+better, and they will hear the better. It is so rude to talk during a
+song, that it is never done in company; but a little low conversation is
+sometimes tolerated in the adjoining room, during the performance of one
+of those interminable pieces of instrumental music, whose chief merit
+lies in its difficulty, and which (at least to the ears of the
+uninitiated,) is rather a bore than a pleasure. We have read a French
+novel, in which the only child of a farmer has just come home from a
+provincial boarding-school, and the seigneur, or lord of the manor, has
+volunteered a visit to these his respected tenants. The mother, amidst
+all the bustle of preparing a great dinner for the occasion, comes in to
+remind Annette that if the seigneur should ask her to play for him, she
+is to curtsey very low, and thank him for the honour. "And then,
+Annette," adds the good old dame, "be sure to play that tune which your
+father and I hate so much!"</p>
+
+<p>By the bye, it is very old fashioned to return thanks to a lady for her
+singing, or to tell her she is very kind to oblige the company so often.
+If she is conscious of really singing well, and sees that she delights
+her hearers, she will not feel sensible of fatigue&mdash;at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> least till the
+agreeable excitement of conscious success is over.</p>
+
+<p>It is ill-mannered, when a lady has just finished a song, for another
+lady to exclaim in her hearing&mdash;"Mary Jones sings that
+delightfully!"&mdash;or&mdash;"How charmingly Susan Smith gives us that ballad!"
+Let the glories of Mary Jones and Susan Smith rest, for that evening,
+within the limits of their own circle.</p>
+
+<p>Do not ask any lady for a song that has already been sung on this very
+evening by another person.</p>
+
+<p>People who have no idea of music sometimes make strange blunders in
+their requests. We know of a female who, at a large party, hearing a
+young lady accompany her voice on the national instrument of Spain,
+became very urgent to have the Battle of Prague performed on the guitar.</p>
+
+<p>It is sometimes fashionable, when the company is not too large for what
+is called "a sitting party," to vary the amusements of the evening by
+introducing some of the numerous plays or games which are always the
+delight of fine children, and which, by way of variety, frequently
+afford much diversion to adults. It is not necessary that all these
+plays should become "a keen encounter of the wits," or that all the
+players should be persons of talent. But it is certainly desirable that
+the majority of the company should have some tact, and some quickness of
+parts; that they should have read some books, and mixed somewhat with
+the world&mdash;otherwise, they will not be clever even at playing plays.
+Those who are incapable of understanding, or entering into the spirit of
+a play, would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> do well to excuse themselves from joining in it, and
+prefer sitting by as spectators. Many young ladies can play nothing
+beyond "How do you like it?" and are not great at that&mdash;saying, when the
+question is put to them&mdash;"Me! I am sure I don't know how I like
+it&mdash;can't you pass me by?" You may as well take her at her word, pass
+her by, and proceed on to her next neighbour; for if she <i>does</i> concoct
+an answer, it will probably, if the word is "<i>brush</i>" be liked "to sweep
+the hearth with;" or if "<i>Hat</i>" is the word, it will be liked "<i>of
+Beaver</i>"&mdash;or something equally palpable.</p>
+
+<p>Such plays as <i>The Lawyer</i>, and <i>The Secret Word</i>, are very entertaining
+in good hands, but complete failures when attempted by the dull or
+illiterate. The amusing game of Proverbs had best be given up for that
+evening, if, on trial, it is found that few of the ladies have any
+knowledge of those true, though homely aphorisms, that have been aptly
+called "the concentrated wisdom of nations."</p>
+
+<p>We know a very ingenious gentleman who, in playing the Secret Word,
+contrives to introduce that word in some very short and very humorous
+anecdote.</p>
+
+<p>A family, on one side of European origin, made a visit to the
+transatlantic continent, where they found, still living in a certain
+great city, a relative connected with an ancient branch of nobility.
+This rendered them more genteel than ever&mdash;and when, covered with glory,
+they returned to this poor republic of ours, the names of nobles, and
+even of princes, with whom they had associated, were "familiar in their
+mouths as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> household words." At a party where these personages were so
+engaged in talking, that they forgot to keep the run of the plays; a new
+game was commenced by a young gentleman slipping out of the room, and
+then returning with a very lugubrious visage, and announcing, in a
+melancholy tone, the death of a certain monarch, whom all the company
+were immediately to unite in lamenting loudly, on pain of paying
+forfeits unless they steadily persisted in their dismal faces. On the
+sad intelligence being proclaimed&mdash;"The king of Bohemia is dead!"&mdash;one
+of our travelled ladies mistaking it for a solemn truth, turned to her
+daughter with&mdash;"Ah! Caroline! did you hear that? The dear good king of
+Bohemia, who was so kind to us whenever we attended his court!" "Oh!
+mamma!" replied Caroline, putting her handkerchief to her eyes&mdash;"the
+news is really heart-breaking. He paid us so much attention all the time
+we were in &mdash;&mdash;, in his dominions. It will be long before we cease
+grieving for the king of Bohemia."</p>
+
+<p>The gentleman who brought this deplorable news also had recourse to
+<i>his</i> handkerchief, and slipped out into the hall to indulge his mirth;
+and several others slipped out after him for the same purpose. No one,
+however, undeceived these ladies, and for several days at their morning
+calls they continued to mourn for the king of Bohemia.</p>
+
+<p>Conundrums<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> afford infinite diversion at a small
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span>
+party, provided the company, like Billy Black's cat, "almost always
+gives up." Long guessing occupies too much time; a commodity of which we
+Americans seldom have any to spare.</p>
+
+<p>Early in the Mexican war, a premium was awarded in Philadelphia for a
+very clever conundrum, alluding to a certain "Bold Dragoon" at Palo
+Alto. "In what manner did Captain May cheat the Mexicans?" "He charged
+them with a troop of horse which they never got."</p>
+
+<p>Our confectioners, in making up the <i>bon bons</i> called "<i>secrets</i>,"
+instead of enfolding with the sugar-plumb a printed slip containing a
+contemptible distich, would do well to have good conundrums printed,
+(with the answer,) and enclosed in the ornamented papers. They would
+certainly be more popular than the old-fashioned mottoes&mdash;such, for
+instance, as</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<span class="i0">"My heart, like a candle of four to the pound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Consumes all the day, and no comfort is found."</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Yet the above is one of the least bad. Most of these mottoes are so flat
+as to be not even ridiculous.</p>
+
+<p>At a dancing party, the ladies of the house decline joining in it, out
+of politeness to their guests, till towards the latter part of the
+evening, when the company begins to thin off, and the dancers are
+fatigued.</p>
+
+<p>We admire a charming girl, who, in her own house, being asked to dance
+by an agreeable man, has the self-denial to say to him&mdash;"Being at home,
+and desirous that my friends shall share as much as possible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> in the
+enjoyments of the evening, I would rather refrain from dancing myself.
+Let me present you to Miss Lindley, or to Miss Darwood; you will find
+either of these young ladies a delightful partner."</p>
+
+<p>These amiable refusals we have heard from our amiable and unselfish
+young friends, and such, we hope, are heard often in what is <i>truly</i>
+"the best society."</p>
+
+<p>Ladies who are strangers in the place, are, by courtesy, entitled to
+particular attention from those who know them.</p>
+
+<p>We have sometimes seen, at a private ball, the least attractive woman
+dancing every set, (though acquitting herself very ill,) while handsome
+and agreeable ladies were sitting still. The mystery was solved on
+finding that the lady of the house carried her ultra benevolence so very
+far, as to make a business of procuring partners all the time for this
+unlovely and unprepossessing female, lest she should feel neglected. Now
+a certain portion of this officiousness is highly praiseworthy, but too
+much of it is a great annoyance to the victimized gentlemen&mdash;especially
+to those who, as a backwoodsman would say, are certainly "some
+pumpkins."</p>
+
+<p>Even the most humane man, whatever may be the kindness of his heart,
+would rather not exhibit himself on the floor with a partner <i>ni jeune
+ni jolie</i>, who is ill-dressed, looks badly, moves ungracefully, can
+neither keep time to the music nor understand the figure, and in fact
+has "no dancing in her soul." If, with all the rest, she is dull and
+stupid, it is cruel for any kind<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> friend to inflict her on a gentleman
+as a partner. Yet such things we have seen.</p>
+
+<p>On one occasion we threw away a great deal of good pity on a youth, whom
+we thought had been inveigled into quadrilling with a lady who made the
+worst figure we ever saw in a ball-room. We afterwards learned that he
+had actually solicited the introduction; and we saw that he devoted
+himself to her all the remainder of the evening. She was a rich heiress.</p>
+
+<p>Self-knowledge is a rare acquirement. But when a lady <i>does</i> suspect
+herself to be deficient in all the essential qualifications of a
+ball-room, she should give up dancing entirely, and be magnanimous
+enough always to excuse herself positively, when asked to dance;
+especially if verging on "a certain age." Let all "trippings on the
+light fantastic toe" be left to the young and gay.</p>
+
+<p>A deformed woman dancing is "a sorry sight." She should never consent to
+any such exhibition of her unhappy figure. She will only be asked out of
+mere compassion, or from some interested and unworthy motive. We are
+asked&mdash;"Why should not such a lady dance, if it gives her pleasure?" We
+answer&mdash;"It should <i>not</i> give her pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>When a lady is so unfortunate as to have a crooked, or misshapen person,
+it is well for her to conceal it as much as possible, by wearing a
+shawl, a large cape, a mantilla, a long sacque, (not a polka jacket;)
+and on no account a tight-bodied pelisse; or still worse, a
+spencer&mdash;than which last, nothing is more trying to the form of the
+waist, except a riding-habit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>We saw Frederika Bremer at an evening assemblage, and she was so
+judiciously attired, that her personal defects did not prevent her from
+looking really well. Over a rich black satin dress, she wore a long
+loose sacque of black lace, lined with grey silk. From beneath the short
+sleeves of her sacque, came down long wide sleeves of white lace,
+confined with bracelets round her fair and delicate little hands. Her
+throat was covered closely with a handsome collar of French embroidered
+muslin, and her beautiful and becoming cap was of white lace, white
+flowers, and white satin ribbon&mdash;her light hair being simply parted on
+her broad and intellectual forehead. With her lively blue eyes, and the
+bright and pleasant expression of her countenance, no one seemed to
+notice the faults of her nose, mouth, and complexion&mdash;and those of her
+figure were so well concealed as to be scarcely apparent. And then her
+lady-like ease, and the total absence of all affectation, rendered her
+graceful and prepossessing. True it is, that with a good heart and a
+good mind no woman can be ugly; at least, they soon cease to be so
+considered, even if nature has been unkind to them in feature, figure,
+and complexion. An intelligent eye, and a good humoured mouth, are
+excellent substitutes for the want of regular beauty. Physiognomists say
+that the eye denotes the mind, and the mouth indicates the heart.</p>
+
+<p>Now as a deformed lady may render herself very agreeable as a good
+conversationist, we repeat that she has no occasion to exhibit the
+defects of her person by treading the mazes of a cotillion, or above
+all, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> going down a country dance, should those "never-ending, still
+beginning" performances come again into fashion. Young men say that an
+ugly, misshapen female, who waltzes, or joins in a polka, or redowa, or
+mazurka, deserves the penitentiary.</p>
+
+<p>We deprecate the practice of keeping the small children of the family up
+all the evening, running and scampering in every one's way, or sleeping
+about on the chairs and sofas, and crying when wakened up to be carried
+to bed. Would it not be much better to have them sent to bed at their
+usual time? We knew two well-trained little boys, who submitted
+obediently to go to bed at their customary hour, on the night of their
+mother's party, of which they had seen nothing but the decorations of
+the parlours. They told their parents next morning, that still they had
+a great deal of pleasure, for after the carriages began to arrive, they
+had lain awake and "heard every ring."</p>
+
+<p>At a large party, or at a wedding, there is generally a supper table;
+lemonade and cakes having been sent round during the evening. The host
+and hostess should see that <i>all</i> the ladies are conducted thither, and
+that none are neglected, particularly those that are timid, and stand
+back. It is the business of the host to attend to those himself, or to
+send the waiters to them.</p>
+
+<p>If the party is so large that all the ladies cannot go to the table at
+once, let the matrons be conducted thither first, and the young ladies
+afterwards. If there is a crowd, it is not unusual to have a cord (a
+handsome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> one, of course,) stretched across the door of the supper-room,
+and guarded by a servant, who explains that no more are to pass till
+after that cord is taken down. Meanwhile, the younger part of the
+company amuse themselves in the adjacent rooms. No lady should take the
+liberty of meddling with the flowers that ornament the table, or of
+secreting "good things" to carry home to her children.</p>
+
+<p>Apropos to flowers.&mdash;The stiff, hard bouquets are now obsolete, where
+the flowers (stripped of their natural green leaves,) were tied <i>en
+masse</i> on a wooden skewer, against a flat back-ground of cedar sprays.
+The more elegant arrangement is revived of arranging them in a full
+round cluster, with a fair portion of their real leaves; the largest and
+finest flowers in the centre, (large white ones particularly); those of
+middle size next; and the light, long, and branchy sprays and tendrils
+at the extremities, the smallest near the bottom of the bouquet, which
+is not so large and massy as formerly, but more graceful and select. The
+bouquet may be carried on the young lady's arm, suspended to a long and
+handsome white ribbon tied in a bow&mdash;a <i>coloured</i> ribbon will disturb
+the effect of the flowers. There should be nothing to interfere with
+their various and beautiful tints.</p>
+
+<p>At a ball, let no <i>coloured</i> chalks or crayons be used for the floor.
+They will rub off on the white shoes of the ladies, and spoil them.</p>
+
+<p>When, instead of <i>setting</i> a supper-table, refreshments are handed round
+to the ladies, the fashion has long since gone by of a gentleman walking
+beside each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> waiter, and "assisting the ladies." It is now found that if
+the articles are properly arranged, and of the proper sort, the ladies
+can much more conveniently help themselves, and with less risk of
+staining or greasing their dresses. Unless the gentleman was "a
+thorough-going party-man," and stereotyped as such, he often committed
+rather vexatious blunders, particularly if he was not <i>au-courant</i> to
+the new improvements, and accustomed to being "at good men's feasts;" or
+rather, at <i>women's good feasts</i>. One evening at a party, we saw an
+"ingenuous youth," whose experience in that line must have been rather
+limited, officiously undertake the portioning out to the ladies of a
+composition hitherto quite new to himself. This was "a trifle," being
+the contents of a very large glass bowl, filled with macaroons, &amp;c.,
+dissolved in wine, &amp;c., with profuse layers of custard, sweetmeats, &amp;c.,
+and covered in at the top with a dome of whipt cream heaped high and
+thick over the whole. The pea-green youth assisted the ladies to nothing
+but saucers of froth from the top, thinking that was the right way. At
+last, the mulatto man, whose superior tact must have been all this time
+in a state of suffering, explained to the novice in trifles, that a
+portion of all the various contents of the glass bowl should be allotted
+to each saucer. "That!" said the surprised doer of honours, "I thought
+all that was only the grounds!" The coloured man relieved him by taking
+the silver server round a second time to all the ladies, who had
+hitherto missed the sediment of the syllabub.</p>
+
+<p>At a summer evening party, the refreshments are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> of a much lighter
+description than at a winter entertainment; consisting chiefly of
+ice-creams, water-ices, fresh fruit, lady-cake, and almond sponge-cake.
+Also strawberry or raspberry charlottes, which are made by arranging in
+glass bowls slices of cake cut in even and regular forms, and spread
+thickly over with the fruit mashed to a jam with white sugar&mdash;the bowls
+being heaped with whipt cream.</p>
+
+<p>The dresses of the ladies are of clear muslin, or some other light
+material, and without any elaborate trimming. The hair is simply
+arranged&mdash;curls being inconvenient in warm weather; and the only head
+ornaments are ribbons, or <i>real</i> flowers.</p>
+
+<p>At summer evening-parties the veranda is always put into requisition,
+being cooler than any part of the house.</p>
+
+<p>At summer dinner-parties, let the dessert be served in another and
+cooler apartment; the company quitting the dining-room as soon as they
+have done with the meats, &amp;c. The beauties of the dessert appear to
+greater advantage, when seen all at one view on a fresh table.</p>
+
+<p>We will introduce a minute account of a very fashionable English
+dinner-party, obtained from a friend who was one of the guests. It may
+afford some hints for the routine of an elegant entertainment, <i>à
+l'Anglais</i>, in our own country.</p>
+
+<p>The guests were twenty-four in number, and they began to assemble at
+half past seven, punctually. They were received in the library, where
+the host and hostess were standing ready to receive them, introducing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span>
+those who were strangers to each other. When all had arrived, the butler
+entered, and going up to the lady of the house, told her in a low voice
+that "dinner was served." The hostess then arranged those that were not
+previously acquainted, and the gentlemen conducted the ladies to the
+dining-room; the principal stranger taking the mistress of the house,
+and the master giving his arm to the chief of the female guests. In
+England, these arrangements are made according to the rank of the
+ladies&mdash;that of the gentlemen is not considered. A duchess takes
+precedence of a marchioness, a viscountess of a countess, a baroness of
+a baron<i>et</i>'s lady, &amp;c.,&mdash;for a baron is above a baronet. Going into the
+dining-room, the company passed by the butler and eight footmen, all of
+whom were stationed in two rows. The butler was dressed entirely in
+black&mdash;the footmen in their livery. According to a new fashion, they may
+now wear long gaiters. White kid gloves are indispensable to the
+footmen.</p>
+
+<p>The table was set for twenty-six&mdash;and standing on it were elegant gilt
+candelabras. <i>All</i> the lights were wax candles. Chandeliers were
+suspended from the ceiling. In the middle of the table was a magnificent
+plateau, or centre ornament of gold; flowers surmounted the summit; and
+the circular stages below were covered with confectionery elegantly
+arranged. On each side of the plateau, and above and below, were tall
+china fruit-baskets. In the centre of each basket were immense
+pine-apples of hot-house growth, with their fresh green leaves. Below
+the pine-apples were large<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> bunches of purple and white hot-house
+grapes, beautifully disposed, with leaves and tendrils hanging over the
+sides of the baskets. Down each side of the whole long table, were
+placed large, round, saucer-shaped fruit-dishes, heaped up with peaches,
+nectarines, pears, plumbs, ripe gooseberries, cherries, currants,
+strawberries, &amp;c. All the fruits not in season were supplied from
+hot-houses. And alternating with the fruit were all the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'entreméts'"><i>entremets</i></ins> in
+covered dishes, placed on long slips of damask the whole length of the
+table. All the plate was superb. The dinner-set was of French china,
+gilt, and painted with roses. At every plate was a caraffe of water,
+with a tumbler turned down over it, and several wine-glasses. The
+napkins were large. The side-board held only the show-silver and the
+wine. The side-tables were covered with elegant damask cloths. On these
+were ranged, laid along in numerous rows, the knives, forks, and spoons
+to be used at dinner. The dessert-spoons were in the form of hollow
+leaves, the stems being the handles. They were beautifully engraved in
+tasteful patterns. The fruit-knives had silver blades and pearl handles.
+There were two soups (white and brown,) standing on a side-table. Each
+servant handed the things in his white kid gloves, and with a damask
+napkin under his thumb. They offered (mentioning its name in a low
+voice,) a plate of each soup to each guest. After the soup, Hock and
+Moselle wine were offered to each guest, that they might choose either.
+A dish of fish was then placed at each end of the table&mdash;one was salmon,
+the other turbot. These dishes were immediately<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> taken off to be helped
+by the servants, both sorts of fish being offered to each person. Then
+the appropriate sauce for the fish&mdash;also cucumbers to eat with the
+salmon. No castors were on the large table, but they were handed round
+by the servants. Directly after the fish came the <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'entrémets'"><i>entremets</i></ins>, or French
+dishes. The wine following the fish was Madeira and Sherry.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards, a saddle or haunch of Welsh mutton was placed at the
+master's end of the table, and at the lady's end a boiled turkey. These
+dishes being removed to the side-tables, very thin slices of each were
+handed round. The poultry was not dissected&mdash;nothing being helped but
+the breast. Ham and tongue was then supplied to those who took poultry;
+and currant-jelly to the eaters of mutton. Next came the vegetables,
+handed round on dishes divided into four compartments, each division
+containing a different sort of vegetable.</p>
+
+<p>Next, two dishes of game were put on&mdash;one before the master of the
+house, and the other before the mistress. The game (which was perfectly
+well-done,) was helped by them, and sent round with the appropriate
+sauce. Then, placed along the table, were the sweet things&mdash;charlottes,
+jellies, frozen fruit, &amp;c. A lobster salad, dressed and cut up large, was
+put on with the sweets. On a side-table were stilton and cream cheese,
+to be eaten with the salad. After this, port wine&mdash;the champagne being
+early in the dinner. Next the sweets were handed round. With the sweets
+were frozen fruits&mdash;fruits cut up, and frozen with isinglass-jelly,
+(red, in moulds.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Next, a dessert plate was given to each guest, and on it a ground glass
+plate, about the size of a saucer. Between these plates was a
+crochet-worked white doyly, of the size of the under-plate; the
+crochet-work done with thread, so as to resemble lace. These doylies
+were laid under the ground-glass plate, to deaden the noise of their
+collision. Then was brought from the side-table a ground-glass plate of
+ice-cream, or water-ice, which you took in exchange for that before you.
+The water-ice was frozen in moulds, in the form of fruit, and suitably
+coloured. The baskets containing the fruit were then removed to the
+side-tables, where the servants had silver scissors, with which they
+clipped off small bunches of the grapes, and the green tops of the
+pine-apples, and a portion of the flesh of the fruit. The middle part
+was then pared and sliced. On each dessert-plate was placed a slice of
+pine-apple, and small bunches of white and blue grapes. After the grapes
+and pine-apples were thus handed round, the dishes of the other fruits
+were then offered successively to every guest. After the ground-glass
+and doylies, there was no farther change of plates.</p>
+
+<p>After sitting a while over the fruit, the lady of the house gives the
+signal, by looking and bowing to the ladies on each side, and the ladies
+at this signal prepare to retire. The gentlemen all rise, and remain
+standing while the ladies depart&mdash;the master of the house holding the
+door open. The servants then all retire, except the butler, who remains
+to wait on the gentlemen, while they linger awhile (not more than a
+quarter of an hour,) over the fruit and wine.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span></p>
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER <ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'XXIV'">XXV</ins>.</h2>
+
+<h3>MISCELLANIES.</h3>
+
+
+<p>It may be well to caution our young friends against certain bad
+practices, easily contracted, but sometimes difficult to relinquish. The
+following are things not to be done:&mdash;Biting your nails. Slipping a ring
+up and down your finger. Sitting cross-kneed, and, jogging your feet.
+Drumming on the table with your knuckles; or, still worse, tinking on a
+piano with <i>your fore-finger only</i>. Humming a tune before strangers.
+Singing as you go up and down stairs. Putting your arm round the neck of
+another young girl, or promenading the room with arms encircling waists.
+Holding the hand of a friend all the time she sits beside you; or
+kissing and fondling her before company. Sitting too closely.</p>
+
+<p>Slapping a gentleman with your handkerchief, or tapping him with your
+fan. Allowing him to take a ring off your finger, to look at it.
+Permitting him to unclasp your bracelet, or, still worse, to inspect
+your brooch. When these ornaments are to be shown to another person,
+always take them off for the purpose. Pulling at your own ringlets, or
+your own ear-rings&mdash;or fingering your neck ribbon. Suffering a
+gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> to touch your curls. Reading with a gentleman off the same
+book or newspaper. Looking over the shoulder of any person who is
+reading or writing. Taking up a <i>written</i> paper from the table, and
+examining it.</p>
+
+<p>To listen at door-cracks, and peep through key-holes, is vulgar and
+contemptible. So it is to ask children questions concerning their
+parents, though such things are still done.</p>
+
+<p>If you mean that you were angry, do not say you were "mad."&mdash;"It made me
+so mad"&mdash;"I was quite mad at her," are phrases not to be used by people
+considering themselves genteel. Anger and madness are not the same, or
+should not be; though it is true that ungoverned rage, is, sometimes,
+carried so far as to seem like insanity.</p>
+
+<p>Enter into no freaks of fashion that are silly, unmeaning, and
+unlady-like; even if they <i>have</i> been introduced by a belle, and
+followed by other belles. Commit no absurdity because a public singer or
+dancer has done so in her ignorance of good behaviour. During the Jenny
+Lind fever, there were young ladies who affected to skuttle into a
+drawing-room all of a sudden, somewhat as the fair Swede came skuttling
+in upon the concert stage, because in reality she knew not how to make
+her entrance gracefully. Other demoiselles twined and waved about, with
+body, head, and eyes, never a moment quiet. This squirming (as it was
+called) originated in a very bad imitation of Fanny Elssler's dancing
+motions. At one time there were girls at parties, who stood on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> one
+foot, and with the other kicked up their dresses behind, while talking
+to gentlemen. This fashion began with a celebrated beauty who "dared do
+any thing." Luckily, these "whims and oddities" are always of short
+duration, and are never adopted by young ladies of good taste and
+refinement.</p>
+
+<p>Do not nod your head, or beat time with fan or foot while listening to
+music.</p>
+
+<p>Never at a party consent to accompany another lady in a duet, unless you
+are accustomed to singing with her. Still worse&mdash;do not volunteer to
+"assist" her in a song that is not a duet. Each voice will interrupt and
+spoil the other. A lady who sings by ear only, cannot accompany one that
+sings by note.</p>
+
+<p>One of the most horrible sounds imaginable is that produced by several
+fine voices all singing different songs. This cats' concert (as
+school-girls call it) results in a shocking and yet ludicrous discord,
+equally frightful and laughable. And yet all the performers are singing
+individually well. Try it.</p>
+
+<p>Raising a window-sash, in cold weather, without first ascertaining if
+the rest of the company are, like yourself, too warm. Leaving the
+parlour door open in winter&mdash;a perpetual occurrence at hotels and
+boarding-houses.</p>
+
+<p>Talking so loudly that you can be heard all over the room. Or so low
+that you cannot be heard at all, even by those who are conversing with
+you. This last fault is the worst. To talk with one who has a habit of
+muttering unintelligibly, is like trying to read a letter illegibly
+written.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Using too often the word "madam" or "ma'am," which in fact, is now
+nearly obsolete in familiar conversation. In the old French tragedies
+the lovers addressed their mistresses as "madam." But then the stage
+Alexander wore a powdered wig, and a laced coat, knee-breeches, and a
+long-skirted waistcoat; and Roxana figured in a hoop-petticoat, a
+brocade gown, a flowered apron, and a towering gauze cap. The frequent
+use of "sir" is also out of fashion. "Yes, ma'am," "No, ma'am," "Yes,
+sir," "No, sir," no longer sounds well, except from children to their
+elders. If you have not distinctly heard what another lady has just said
+to you, do not denote it by saying, "Ma'am?" but remark to her, "Excuse
+me, I did not exactly hear you!"</p>
+
+<p>Never, in a public parlour, place yourself in a position where you can
+secretly hear conversation that is not intended for you&mdash;for instance in
+a corner behind a pillar. If you hear yourself talked of, it is mean to
+stay and listen. It is a true adage that "Listeners seldom hear any good
+of themselves."</p>
+
+<p>However smart and witty you may be considered, do not exercise your wit
+in rallying and bantering your friends. If you do so, their friendship
+will soon be worn out, or converted into positive enmity. A jest that
+carries a sting with it can never give a pleasant sensation to the
+object. The bite of a musquito is a very little thing, but it leaves
+pain and inflammation behind it, and the more it is rubbed the longer it
+rankles in the blood. No one likes to have their foibles or mishaps
+turned into ridicule&mdash;before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> other persons especially. And few can
+cordially join in a laugh that is raised against themselves.</p>
+
+<p>The slightest jest on the personal defects of those you are conversing
+with, is an enormity of rudeness and vulgarity. It is, in fact, a sneer
+at the Creator that made them so. No human creature is accountable for
+being too small, or too large; for an ill-formed figure, or for
+ill-shaped limbs; for irregular features, or a bad complexion.</p>
+
+<p>Still worse, to rally any person (especially a woman) on her age, or to
+ask indirect questions with a view of discovering what her age really
+is. If we continue to live, we must continue to grow old. We must either
+advance in age, or we must die. Where then is the shame of surviving our
+youth? And when youth departs, beauty goes along with it. At least as
+much beauty as depends on complexion, hair, and teeth. In arriving at
+middle age, (or a little beyond it,) a lady must compound for the loss
+of either face or figure. About that period she generally becomes
+thinner, or fatter. If thin, her features shrink, and her skin shrivels
+and fades; even though she retains a slender and perhaps a girlish form.
+If she grows fat, her skin may continue smooth, and her complexion fine,
+and her neck and arms may be rounder and handsomer than in girlhood; but
+then symmetry of shape will cease&mdash;and she must reconcile herself to the
+change as best she can. But a woman with a good mind, a good heart, and
+a good temper, can never at any age grow ugly&mdash;for an intelligent and
+pleasant expression is in itself beauty, and the best sort of beauty.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Sad indeed is the condition of women in the decline of life when "No
+lights of age adorn them." When, having neglected in the spring and
+summer to lay up any stores for the winter that is sure to come, they
+find themselves left in the season of desolation with nothing to fall
+back upon&mdash;no pleasant recollections of the acquisition of knowledge or
+the performance of good deeds, and nothing to talk about but the idle
+gossip of the day&mdash;striving painfully to look younger than they really
+are; still haunting balls and parties, and enduring all the discomforts
+of crowded watering-places, long after all pleasure in such scenes must
+have passed away. But then they must linger in public because they are
+miserable at home, having no resources within themselves, and few
+enduring friends to enliven them with their society.</p>
+
+<p>The woman that knows how to grow old gracefully, will adapt her dress to
+her figure and her age, and wear colours that suit her present
+complexion. If her neck and arms are thin, she will not expose them
+under any circumstances. If her hair is grey, she will not decorate it
+with flowers and flimsy ribbons. If her cheeks are hollow, she will not
+make her face look still longer and thinner by shadowing it with long
+ringlets; and setting her head-dress far back&mdash;but she will give it as
+much softness as she can, by a light cap-border tied under her chin. She
+will not squeeze herself out of all human shape by affecting a long
+tight <i>corsage</i>; and she will wear no dresses glaring with huge flowers,
+or loaded with gaudy trimmings. She will allude to her age as a thing of
+course; she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> will speak without hesitation of former times, though the
+recollection proves her to be really old. She will be kind and indulgent
+to the young; and the young will respect and love her, and gladly
+assemble near her chair, and be amused and unconsciously instructed. As
+long as she lives and retains her faculties she will endeavour to
+improve, and to become still a wiser and a better woman; never excusing
+herself by indolently and obstinately averring that "she is too old to
+learn," or that she cannot give up her old-fashioned habits. If she
+finds that those habits are unwarrantable, or that they are annoying to
+her friends, she ought to relinquish them. No one with a mind
+unimpaired, and a heart still fresh, is too old to learn.</p>
+
+<p>This book is addressed chiefly to the young; but we shall be much
+gratified by finding that even old ladies have found in it some
+advantageous suggestions on points that had hitherto escaped their
+notice.</p>
+
+<div class="bigskip"></div>
+<h3>THE END.</h3>
+<div class="bigskip"></div>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> So it is to order the carriage without first asking permission
+of your hostess.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Where the city-post is to be depended on, a note can always be
+sent in that way.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> If the visiter has been properly announced, a well-trained
+servant will, in all probability, run up before her, and open the
+room-door.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> It is well to present a lady or gentleman from another city,
+as "Miss Ford of New York"&mdash;"Mrs. Stephens of Boston"&mdash;"Mr.
+Warren of New Orleans."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Distinguished men of all professions, doctors, lawyers, artists,
+authors, and officers of the army and navy, frequently receive the
+honour of knighthood.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> It would be well if all the public offices at Washington were
+furnished with copies of the British Peerage. Perhaps they are.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> When circumstances render it expedient to carry much money
+out with you, divide it; putting half in one purse or pocket-book,
+and half in another, and put these portions into two pockets.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> In a former work of the author's, <i>The House Book</i>, published
+by A. Hart, Philadelphia, will be found ample directions for packing
+trunks, &amp;c.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Nevertheless, it is not good manners to make any remark
+(even to a friend) on their coming to breakfast late or early. It
+is no concern of yours, and they have reasons of their own, undoubtedly.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Americans never really say <i>niggers</i>, though constantly accused
+of doing so by their British cousins. The word <i>negor</i> we have
+heard, but <i>nigger</i> never.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> It is customary with professional or public musicians, when in
+private company, to volunteer a song or a piece; knowing that,
+out of delicacy, no one will <i>ask</i> them to give a gratuitous specimen
+of the art by which they live. This is polite and proper. It is
+always duly appreciated, and adds to the popularity of the performer.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> A whisperer usually betrays herself by unconsciously fixing
+her eyes on the person she is secretly talking of. If you wish
+to inform your neighbour that a distinguished person is present
+say softly, "Mr. C. is here, but do not look at him just now."</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> It is, however, customary in eating sweet potatoes of a large
+size, to break them in two, and taking a piece in your hand, to
+pierce down to the bottom with your fork, and then mix in some
+butter, continuing to hold it thus while eating it.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> When the name of the state is short, you may give all the
+letters that compose it, as Maine&mdash;Ohio&mdash;Iowa&mdash;Texas&mdash;Utah.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> In buying a <i>handsome</i> parasol or umbrella, see that it has a
+folding-joint in the middle of the stick, and that this joint works
+easily, so that there may be no difficulty in packing it in a trunk
+or box. To prevent the silk being rubbed, tie up the parasol in a
+smooth linen case, previous to packing.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> We were a few years since, told by one of our principal booksellers
+that a young lady came into his store when he chanced to
+be at the counter himself, and, showing him a small English prayer-book
+elegantly bound, and with fine engravings, she enquired if he
+had any exactly like that. On his replying in the negative, she
+desired that he would get precisely such a prayer-book <i>made for
+her</i>, in time for church on Sunday morning&mdash;(it was then Friday)&mdash;as
+she had set her mind on it. It must have just such pictures,
+and just such a beautiful gilt cover. He endeavoured in vain to
+convince her of the utter impossibility of performing this feat of
+having one single book printed, and bound, with plates engraved
+purposely for it, and all in the space of a day and a half. She
+seemed much displeased, and went away, in search, as she said,
+of a bookseller that was more obliging.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> The author is a Protestant.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Miss Leslie's American Girl's Book (published by C. S. Francis,)
+contains a great variety of amusing plays, ways to redeem forfeits,
+&amp;c., with an unusual number of conundrums.</p></div></div>
+
+<h3>Transcriber's Notes:</h3>
+<p>Typos, spelling and punctuation errors fixed.</p>
+
+<p>P. 168, "inverted commas"&mdash;represented as curved opening and closing
+quotation marks as used throughout the original.</p>
+
+<p>P. 218, "you know," repeated, is faithful to the original. Retained since
+repetition may have been intended by the author to indicate over-use of the
+phrase.</p>
+
+<p>P. 279, "placing this mark /\ below"&mdash;the symbol is an upside-down V (joined at
+the top) in the original.</p>
+
+<p>P. 288, "ankles;" original reads "ancles."</p>
+
+<p>P. 289, "Blind-man's bluff;" original reads "buff."</p>
+
+<p>P. 330, Original chapter heading numbered "XXIV." Corrected to "XXV."</p>
+
+<p>Variations changed to more frequent usage: Commonplace to common-place, despatch/
+to dispatch/, drest to dressed, inclos/ to enclos/, inquiries to enquiries, intrust/ to entrust/,
+steam-boat to steamboat, and unladylike to unlady-like.</p>
+
+<p>Entreméts and entrémets corrected to entremets.</p>
+
+<p>Unusual spellings in the original that were retained include: cotemporary,
+extatic, mattrass, negor, receipt (for recipe), segars, Shakspeare, sociablist, and
+visiter.</p>
+
+<p>Also retained because used equally: bed-chambers and bedchambers, before-hand and
+beforehand, foot-stool(s) and footstool(s), ink-stand and inkstand (in this case,
+one each was present in original, plus one broken at line's end. I opted to
+remove the hyphen on rejoining, as it was closer in the text to the other
+non-hyphenated version).</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness
+and Perfect Manners, by Eliza Leslie
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' GUIDE TO TRUE POLITENESS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 37988-h.htm or 37988-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/8/37988/
+
+Produced by Julia Miller, JoAnn Greenwood, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/37988.txt b/37988.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..864e218
--- /dev/null
+++ b/37988.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9083 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness and
+Perfect Manners, by Eliza Leslie
+
+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' Guide to True Politeness and Perfect Manners
+       or, Miss Leslie's Behaviour Book
+
+Author: Eliza Leslie
+
+Release Date: November 12, 2011 [EBook #37988]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' GUIDE TO TRUE POLITENESS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Julia Miller, JoAnn Greenwood, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    THE LADIES' GUIDE
+
+    TO TRUE
+
+    POLITENESS AND PERFECT MANNERS;
+
+    OR,
+
+    MISS LESLIE'S BEHAVIOUR BOOK.
+
+
+    A GUIDE AND MANUAL FOR LADIES,
+
+    AS REGARDS THEIR
+
+    CONVERSATION; MANNERS; DRESS; INTRODUCTIONS; ENTRE TO SOCIETY;
+    SHOPPING; CONDUCT IN THE STREET; AT PLACES OF AMUSEMENT; IN
+    TRAVELING; AT THE TABLE, EITHER AT HOME, IN COMPANY, OR
+    AT HOTELS; DEPORTMENT IN GENTLEMEN'S SOCIETY; LIPS;
+    COMPLEXION; TEETH; HANDS; THE HAIR; ETC., ETC.
+
+    WITH FULL INSTRUCTIONS AND ADVICE IN
+
+    LETTER WRITING; RECEIVING PRESENTS; INCORRECT WORDS; BORROWING;
+    OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN; OFFENCES; CHILDREN; DECORUM IN
+    CHURCH; AT EVENING PARTIES; AND SUGGESTIONS IN BAD
+    PRACTICES AND HABITS EASILY CONTRACTED, WHICH NO
+    YOUNG LADY SHOULD BE GUILTY OF, ETC., ETC.
+
+
+    BY MISS LESLIE.
+
+    AUTHOR OF "MISS LESLIE'S CELEBRATED NEW COOKERY BOOK,"
+    "MISS LESLIE'S NEW RECEIPTS FOR COOKING," ETC.
+
+
+    Philadelphia:
+    T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS,
+    306 CHESTNUT STREET.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+    Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, by
+
+    T. B. PETERSON & BROTHERS,
+
+    the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, in and
+    for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+It is said that soon after the publication of Nicholas Nickleby, not
+fewer than six Yorkshire schoolmasters (or rather six principals of
+Yorkshire institutes) took journeys to London, with the express purpose
+of prosecuting Dickens for libels--"each one and severally" considering
+himself shown up to the world as Mr. Squeers of Dotheboys Hall.
+
+Now, if Dickens had drawn as graphic a picture of Dothe_girls_ Hall, we
+firmly believe that none of the lady principals of similar institutes
+would have committed themselves by evincing so little tact, and adopting
+such impolitic proceedings. They would wisely have held back from all
+appropriation of the obnoxious character, and passed it over unnoticed;
+as if it could not possibly have the slightest reference to _them_.
+
+Therefore we wish that those of our fair readers whom certain hints in
+the following pages may awaken to the consciousness of a few habitual
+misbehavements, (of which they were not previously aware,) should pause,
+and reflect, before they allow themselves to "take umbrage too much."
+Let them keep in mind that the purpose of the writer is to amend, and
+not to offend; to improve her young countrywomen, and not to annoy them.
+It is with this view only that she has been induced to "set down in a
+note-book" such lapses from _les bienseances_ as she has remarked during
+a long course of observation, and on a very diversified field.
+
+She trusts that her readers will peruse this book in as friendly a
+spirit as it was written.
+
+                                ELIZA LESLIE.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+                                             PAGE
+
+    SUGGESTIONS TO VISITERS                     2
+
+    THE VISITED                                24
+
+    TEA VISITERS                               30
+
+    THE ENTREE                                 47
+
+    INTRODUCTIONS                              52
+
+    CONDUCT IN THE STREET                      65
+
+    SHOPPING                                   71
+
+    PLACES OF AMUSEMENT                        87
+
+    TRAVELLING                                 92
+
+    DEPORTMENT AT A HOTEL                     101
+
+    HOTEL DINNER                              120
+
+    SHIP-BOARD                                143
+
+    LETTERS                                   150
+
+    PRESENTS                                  174
+
+    CONVERSATION                              185
+
+    INCORRECT WORDS                           216
+
+    BORROWING                                 225
+
+    OFFENCES                                  243
+
+    OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN                  250
+
+    CONDUCT TO LITERARY WOMEN                 256
+
+    SUGGESTIONS TO INEXPERIENCED AUTHORS      274
+
+    CHILDREN                                  285
+
+    DECORUM IN CHURCH                         299
+
+    EVENING PARTIES                           304
+
+    MISCELLANIES                              330
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+        MISS LESLIE'S
+
+        BEHAVIOUR BOOK.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+SUGGESTIONS TO VISITERS.
+
+
+An amusing writer of the last century, justly complains of the want of
+definite words to express, distinctly and unmistakably, the different
+degrees of visits, with reference to their length. Whether the stay of
+the guest comprises ten minutes, an hour, an evening, a day, a week, or
+a month, still it goes under the vague and general term of a visit.
+
+We propose, humourously, that if the stay of the guest exceeds a week,
+it should be called "a visitation." If it includes a dining, or a
+tea-drinking, or evening-spending, it may be termed "a visit;" while a
+mere call can be mentioned as "a vis."
+
+The idea is a very convenient one, and we should like to see it carried
+out by general adoption. Meanwhile, we must, for the present, be
+contented with the old uncertain practice of saying only "visit" and
+"visiter." We think it our duty to explain that this chapter is designed
+for the benefit of such inexperienced females as may be about to engage
+in what we should like to call "a visitation."
+
+To begin at the beginning:--
+
+Do not _volunteer_ a visit to a friend in the country, or in another
+town, unless you have had what is called "a standing invitation," with
+every reason to believe that it was sincerely and cordially given. Many
+invitations are mere "words of course," without meaning or motive,
+designed only to make a show of politeness, and not intended to be taken
+literally, or ever acted upon. Even when convinced that your friend is
+really your friend, that she truly loves you, has invited you in all
+sincerity, and will be happy in your society, still, it is best to
+apprize her, duly, of the exact day and hour when she may expect you;
+always with the proviso that it is convenient to herself to receive you
+at that time, and desiring her to let you know, candidly, if it is not.
+However close your intimacy, an unexpected arrival may possibly produce
+inconvenience to your hostess; particularly if her family is numerous,
+or her bedchambers few. The case is somewhat different, where the house
+is large, and where there is no scarcity of apartments for guests, of
+servants to wait on them, or of money to furnish the means of
+entertaining them liberally. But even then, the time of arrival should
+be previously intimated, and observed as punctually as possible. Such
+are now the facilities of travelling, and the rapidity of transmitting
+intelligence, that there is no excuse for unexpected or ill-timed
+visits; and when unexpected, they are too frequently ill-timed. When
+attempted as "agreeable surprises," they are seldom very agreeable to
+the surprised. Also the improvement in manners has rendered these
+incursions old-fashioned and ungenteel. Above all, never volunteer
+visits to families whose circumstances are so narrow that they can ill
+afford the expense of a guest.
+
+Having received an invitation, reply to it immediately; and do not keep
+your friends waiting, day after day, in uncertainty whether you mean to
+accept or decline it; causing them, perhaps, to delay asking other
+visiters till they have ascertained if you are to be expected or not.
+
+Excuse yourself from accepting invitations from persons whom you do not
+like, and whose dispositions, habits, feelings, and opinions are in most
+things the reverse of your own. There can be no pleasure in daily and
+familiar intercourse where there is no congeniality. Such visits never
+end well; and they sometimes produce irreconcilable quarrels, or at
+least a lasting and ill-concealed coolness. Though for years you may
+have always met on decent terms, you may become positive enemies from
+living a short time under the same roof; and there is something
+dishonourable in laying yourself under obligations and receiving
+civilities from persons whom you secretly dislike, and in whose society
+you can have little or no enjoyment.
+
+When you arrive, take occasion to mention how long you intend to stay;
+that your hostess may plan her arrangements accordingly. It is rude and
+inconsiderate to keep her in ignorance of the probable duration of your
+visit. And when the allotted time has expired, do not be persuaded to
+extend it farther, unless you are earnestly, and with undoubted
+sincerity invited to do so. It is much better that your friends should
+part with you reluctantly, than you should give them reason to wish your
+visit shorter. Even if it _has_ been very pleasant on both sides, it may
+not continue so if prolonged too far. Take care of wearing out your
+welcome. Besides, your room may be wanted for another guest.
+
+On your first evening, enquire the hours of the house, that you may
+always be ready to comply with them. Rise early enough to be washed and
+dressed in time for breakfast; but if you are ready too early, remain in
+your own apartment, or walk about the garden, or go to the library till
+the cleaning and arranging of the sitting-room has been completed.
+Meanwhile, you can occupy yourself with a book, if you stay in your own
+room.
+
+As soon as you quit your bed, take off the bedclothes, (each article
+separately,) and spread them widely over the chairs, turning the
+mattrass or bed as far down as it will go. This will give the bedding
+time to air; and in all houses it should be done every morning, the
+whole year round. Before you leave the room, raise the windows as high
+as they will go, (unless it should be raining, or snowing,) that the
+apartment may be well ventilated. Fortunate are those who have been
+accustomed to sleeping always with the sash more or less open, according
+to the weather, or the season. Their health will be much the better for
+the excellent practice of constantly admitting fresh air into their
+sleeping-room. See Dr. Franklin's essay on the "Art of Sleeping Well."
+Mr. Combe, who has written copiously on this subject, says it not only
+improves the health, but the complexion; and that ladies who follow this
+practice continue to look young long after those who sleep in close
+rooms have faded and shrivelled. Except in a very unhealthy climate, or
+in the neighbourhood of marshes, no external air can be so unwholesome,
+or productive of such baneful effects on the constitution, as the same
+air breathed over and over again in a close room, and returning
+continually to the lungs, till before morning it becomes unfit to be
+breathed at all. Sleeping with the windows closed in a room newly
+painted has produced fatal diseases. To some lungs the vapour of white
+lead is poisonous. To none is it quite innoxious. Its dangerous
+properties may be neutralized by placing in newly-painted rooms, large
+tubs of water, into each of which has been mixed an ounce of vitriol.
+The tubs must be set near the walls, and the water and vitriol renewed
+every day. The introduction of zinc-paint promises to put that of white
+lead out of use; as zinc is quite as cheap, and not at all pernicious to
+health.
+
+At sleeping hours the air of a bedroom should be perfectly free from all
+scents, either pleasant or otherwise. Many persons cannot sleep with
+flowers in their chamber, or with any sort of perfume. It is best not.
+
+If when on a visit, you find that the chambermaid does not make your bed
+so that you can sleep comfortably, show her how to do it, (privately,)
+but say nothing to your hostess. There is but one way of making a bed
+properly; and yet it is surprising how little that way is known or
+remembered. First, shake up the bed high and evenly; turning it over,
+and see that the foot is not higher than the head. If there is a
+mattrass above the bed, turn the mattrass half up, and then half down,
+till you have shaken up the bed beneath. Next spread on the under-sheet,
+laying it well over the bolster to secure it from dragging down and
+getting under the shoulders. However, to most beds now, there is a
+bolster-case. Then tuck in the under-sheet, well, at both sides, to
+prevent its getting loose and disordered in the night. For the same
+reason tuck in the upper-sheet, well, at the foot, leaving the sides
+loose. Tuck in the blankets at bottom, but not at the sides. Lay the
+counterpane smoothly over the whole. Turn it down at the top; and turn
+down the upper-sheet above it, so as to conceal the blankets entirely.
+
+Should the chambermaid neglect your room, or be remiss in filling your
+pitchers, or in furnishing you with clean towels, speak to her on the
+subject when alone. She will hardly, for her own sake, inform her
+mistress that you have had occasion to find fault with her; unless she
+is very insolent or sulky, she will say she is sorry, and will promise
+to do better in future. Complaining to her mistress of these neglects
+will probably give offence to the lady, who may be of that wayward
+(though too common) disposition which will allow no one except herself,
+to find any deficiency in _her_ servants. As mistresses are frequently
+very touchy on these points, your hostess may hint that your statement
+is incredible, and that "no one ever complained before." Above all
+things, avoid letting her know that you have found or felt insects in
+your bed; a circumstance that may chance sometimes to happen even in the
+best kept houses. In a warm climate, or in an old house, the utmost care
+and the most vigilant neatness cannot always prevent it. It may be
+caused by the bringing of baggage from boats, or ships, and by servants
+neglecting their own beds; a too common practice with them, unless the
+mistress or her housekeeper compels them to be cleanly, and sees that
+they are so.
+
+If you have proof positive that your bed is not free from these
+intolerable nuisances, confide this fact to the chambermaid only, and
+desire her to attend to it speedily. She will do so the more readily, if
+you promise her a reward in case of complete success. Enjoining her to
+manage this as quietly as possible, and to say nothing about it to any
+one, may spare you a scene with your hostess; who, though you have
+always regarded her as your warm friend, may, notwithstanding, become
+your enemy for life, in consequence of your having presumed to be
+incommoded in _her_ house, where "nobody ever complained before." A
+well-bred, sensible, good-tempered woman will not, of course, take
+offence for such a cause; and will believe that there must have been
+good reason for the complaint, rather than suppose that her guest and
+her friend would mention so delicate a subject even to a servant, unless
+there was positive proof. And she will rightly think it was well to make
+it known, and have it immediately remedied. But all women who invite
+friends to visit them, are not sensible and good-tempered. Therefore,
+take care.
+
+For similar reasons, should a servant purloin any article belonging to
+you, (and servants, considered quite honest, will sometimes pilfer from
+a visiter when they would not dare to do so from their mistress,) it is
+safest to pass it over, unless the article stolen is of consequence. You
+may find your hostess very unwilling to believe that a servant of _hers_
+could possibly be dishonest; and much may be said, or evidently
+_thought_, that will be very painful to you, her guest.
+
+Notwithstanding all that may be said to you about "feeling yourself
+perfectly at home," and "considering your friend's house as your own,"
+be very careful not literally to do so. In fact, it is impossible you
+_should_ with any propriety--particularly, if it is your first visit.
+You cannot possibly know the real character and disposition of any
+acquaintance, till after you have had some experience in living under
+the same roof. If you find your hostess all that you can desire, and
+that she is making your visit every way agreeable, be very grateful to
+her, and let her understand that you are exceedingly happy at her house;
+but avoid staying too long, or taxing her kindness too highly.
+
+Avoid encroaching unreasonably upon her time. Expect her not to devote
+an undue portion of it to you. She will probably be engaged in the
+superintendence of household affairs, or in the care of her young
+children, for two or three hours after breakfast. So at these hours do
+not intrude upon her,--but amuse yourself with some occupation of your
+own, till you see that it is convenient to the family for you to join
+them in the sitting-room. In summer afternoons, retire for an hour or
+more, soon after dinner, to your own apartment, that you may give your
+friends an opportunity of taking their naps, and that you may do the
+same yourself. You will be brighter in the evening, from indulging in
+this practice; and less likely to feel sleepy, when you ought to be wide
+awake, and ready to assist in entertaining your entertainers. A silent
+visiter, whether silent from dulness or indolence, or a habit of
+taciturnity, is never an agreeable one.
+
+Yet, however pleasant the conversation, have sufficient self-denial to
+break off in seasonable time, so as not to keep the family up by
+continuing in the parlour till a late hour. Some of them may be tired
+and sleepy, though you are not. And between ten and eleven o'clock it is
+well to retire.
+
+If you have shopping to do, and are acquainted with the town, you can be
+under no necessity of imposing on any lady of the family the task of
+accompanying you. To shop _for_ others, or _with_ others, is a most
+irksome fatigue. Even when a stranger in the place, you can easily, by
+enquiring of the family, learn where the best stores are to be found,
+and go to them by yourself.
+
+While you are a guest at the house of a friend, do not pass too much of
+your time in visiting at _other_ houses, unless she is with you. You
+have no right to avail yourself of the conveniences of eating and
+sleeping at her mansion, without giving her and her family the largest
+portion of your company.
+
+While a guest yourself, it is taking an unwarrantable liberty to invite
+any of your friends or relatives to come there and spend a day or
+days.[1]
+
+Refrain from visiting any person with whom your hostess is at enmity,
+even if that person has been one of your own intimate friends. You will
+in all probability be regarded as "a spy in the camp." There is nothing
+so difficult as to observe a strict neutrality; and on hearing both
+sides, it is scarcely possible not to lean more to the one than to the
+other. The friend whose hospitality you are enjoying will soon begin to
+look coldly upon you, if she finds you seeking the society of her enemy;
+and she may evince that coldness whenever you come home from these
+visits. However unjust her suspicions, it is too probable she may begin
+to think that you are drawn in to make her, and her house, and family,
+subjects of conversation when visiting her adversary; therefore, she
+will cease to feel kindly toward you. If you understand, soon after your
+arrival, that there is no probability of a reconciliation, send at once
+a concise note to the lady with whom your hostess is at variance;
+express your regret at the circumstance, and excuse yourself from
+visiting her while you remain in your present residence. This note
+should be polite, short, and decisive, and so worded as to give no
+offence to either side; for, before sending, it is proper for you to
+show it, while yet unsealed, to the friend with whom you are staying. And
+then let the correspondence be carried no further. The lady to whom it
+is addressed, will, of course, return a polite answer; such as you may
+show to your hostess.
+
+It is to be presumed, she will not be so lost to all delicacy and
+propriety, as to intrude herself into the house of her enemy for the
+purpose of visiting you. But, if she does, it is your place civilly to
+decline seeing her. A slight coolness, a mere offence on a point of
+etiquette, which, if let alone, would die out like a tinder-spark, has
+been fanned, and blown into a flame by the go-betweening of a so-called
+_mutual friend_. We repeat, while you are a visiter at a house, hold no
+intercourse with any foe of that house. It is unkind and disrespectful
+to the family with whom you are staying, and very unsafe for yourself.
+
+If you know that your friends are hurried with their sewing, or with
+preparations for company, offer to assist them, as far as you can. But
+if you are conscious of an incapacity to do such things well, it is
+better to excuse yourself by candidly saying so, than to attempt them
+and spoil them. At the same time, express your willingness to learn, if
+permitted. And you _may_ learn, while staying at the house of a clever,
+notable friend, many things that you have hitherto had no opportunity of
+acquiring.
+
+When called on by any of your own acquaintances, they will not expect
+you to ask them to stay to tea, or to dinner. That is the business of
+your hostess--not yours.
+
+If you are a young lady that has beaux, remember that you have no right
+to encourage the over-frequency of their visits in any house that is not
+your home, or to devote much of your time and attention to flirtation
+with them. Above all, avoid introducing to the family of your
+entertainers, young men whom they are likely in any respect to
+disapprove. No stranger who has the feelings of a gentleman, will make a
+_second_ visit to any house unless he is invited by the head of the
+family, and he will take care that his visits shall not begin too early,
+or continue too late. However delightful he may find the society of his
+lady-fair, he has no right to incommode the family with whom she is
+staying, by prolonging his visits to an unseasonable hour. If he seems
+inclined to do so, there is nothing amiss in his fair-one herself
+hinting to him that it is past ten o'clock. Also, there should be "a
+temperance" even in his morning calls. It is rude in a young lady and
+gentleman to monopolize one of the parlours nearly all the
+forenoon--even if they are _really_ courting--still more if they are
+only pretending to court; for instance, sitting close to each other, and
+whispering on subjects that might be discussed aloud before the whole
+house, and talked of across the room.
+
+Young ladies noted for abounding in beaux, are generally rather
+inconvenient visiters; except in very spacious houses, and in gay, idle
+families. They should not take the liberty of inviting the said beaux
+to stay to dinner or to tea. Leave that civility to the head of the
+house,--without whose invitation no _gentleman_ ought to remain.
+
+It is proper for visiters to put out and pay for their own washing,
+ironing, &c. Therefore, carry among your baggage two clothes-bags; one
+to be taken away by the laundress, the other to receive your clothes in
+the interval. You may always hear of a washerwoman, by enquiring of the
+servants of the house.
+
+On no consideration question the servants, or talk to them about the
+family, particularly if they are slaves.
+
+Take with you a small writing-case, containing whatever stationery you
+may be likely to want during your visit; including post-office stamps.
+Thus you will spare yourself, and spare the family, the inconvenience of
+applying to them whenever you have occasion for pen, ink, paper, &c. If
+you have no ink with you, the first time you go out, stop in at a
+stationer's store, and buy a small sixpenny bottle that will stand
+steadily alone, and answer the purpose of an inkstand. Also, take care
+to be well supplied with all sorts of sewing articles. There are young
+ladies who go from home on long visits, quite unprovided with even
+thimbles and scissors; depending all the time on borrowing. Many
+visiters, though very agreeable in great things, are exceedingly
+troublesome in little ones.
+
+Take care not to slop your washing-stand, or to lay a piece of wet soap
+upon it. Spread your wet towels carefully on the towel-rail. See that
+your trunks are not placed so near the wall as to injure the paper or
+paint when the lid is thrown back.
+
+If, when travelling, you are to stop but one night at the house of a
+friend, it is not necessary, for that one night, to have _all_ your
+baggage carried up-stairs, particularly if your trunks are large or
+heavy. Before leaving home, put into your carpet-bag all the things you
+will require for that night; and then no other article of your baggage
+need be taken up to your chamber. They can be left down-stairs, in some
+safe and convenient place, which your hostess will designate. This will
+save much trouble, and preclude all the injury that may otherwise accrue
+to the banisters and staircase-wall, by the corners of trunks knocking
+against them. It is possible to put into a carpet-satchel (that can be
+carried in your own hand) a night-gown and night-cap, (tightly rolled,)
+with hair-brush, combs, tooth-brush, &c. It is surprising how much these
+hand-satchels may be made to contain, when packed closely. No lady or
+gentleman should travel without one. In going from home for one night
+only, a satchel is, frequently, all that is requisite.
+
+On concluding your visit, tell your entertainers that it has been
+pleasant, and express your gratitude for the kindness you have received
+from them, and your hope that they will give you an opportunity of
+returning their civilities. Give a parting gratuity to each of the
+servants--the sum being according to your means, and to the length of
+your visit. Give this to each servant _with your own hands_, going to
+them for the purpose. Do not tempt their integrity, by entrusting (for
+instance) to the chambermaid the fee intended for the cook. She may
+dishonestly keep it to herself, and make the cook believe that you were
+"so mean as to go away without leaving any thing at all for her." Such
+things have happened, as we know. Therefore, give all your fees in
+person.
+
+After you get home, write very soon (within two or three days) to the
+friend at whose house you have been staying, tell her of your journey,
+&c., and allude to your visit as having been very agreeable.
+
+The visit over, be of all things careful not to repeat any thing that
+has come to your knowledge in consequence, and which your entertainers
+would wish to remain unknown. While inmates of their house, you may have
+unavoidably become acquainted with some particulars of their way of
+living not generally known, and which, perhaps, would not raise them in
+public estimation, if disclosed. Having been their guest, and partaken
+of their hospitality, you are bound in honour to keep silent on every
+topic that would injure them in the smallest degree, if repeated.
+Unhappily, there are ladies so lost to shame, as, after making a long
+visit, to retail for the amusement of their cronies, all sorts of
+invidious anecdotes concerning the family at whose house they have been
+staying; adding by way of corroboration--"I assure you this is all true,
+for I stayed five or six weeks at their house, and had a good chance of
+knowing." More shame then to tell it!
+
+Whatever painful discoveries are made during a visit, should be kept as
+closely secret as if secrecy was enjoined by oath. It is not sufficient
+to refrain from "mentioning names." No clue should be given that could
+possibly enable the hearers even to hazard a guess.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[1] So it is to order the carriage without first asking permission of
+your hostess.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE VISITED.
+
+
+Having invited a friend to pass a few days or weeks at your house, and
+expecting her at a certain time, send a carriage to meet her at the
+rail-road depot or the steamboat wharf, and if her host or hostess goes
+in it, so much the better; but do not take the children along, crowding
+the vehicle, for the sake of giving them a ride. Arriving at your house,
+have her baggage taken at once to the apartment prepared for her, and
+when she goes up-stairs, send a servant with her to unstrap her trunks.
+Then let her be left _alone_ to arrange her dress. It is to be supposed
+that before her arrival, the mistress of the house has inspected the
+chamber of her guest, to see that all is right--that there are _two_
+pitchers full of fresh water on the stand, and three towels on the rail,
+(two fine and one coarse,) with a china mug for teeth-cleaning, and a
+tumbler to drink from; a slop jar of course, and a foot-bath. We
+conclude that in all genteel and well-furnished houses, none of these
+articles are wanting in every bedroom. On the mantel-piece a candle or
+lamp, with a box of lucifer matches beside it--the candle to be replaced
+by a new one every morning when the chambermaid arranges the room--or
+the lamp to be trimmed daily; so that the visiter may have a light at
+hand whenever she pleases, without ringing the bell and waiting till a
+servant brings one up.
+
+By-the-bye, when a guest is expected, see previously that the bells and
+locks of her room are in order; and if they are not, have them repaired.
+
+If it is cold weather, let her find a good fire in her room; and the
+shutters open, that she may have sufficient light. Also an extra
+blanket, folded, and laid on the foot of the bed. If summer, let the
+sashes be raised, and the shutters bowed. The room should have an easy
+chair with a heavy foot-cushion before it,--a low chair also, to sit on
+when shoes and stockings are to be changed, and feet washed. In a spare
+chamber there should be both a mattrass and a feather-bed, that your
+visiters may choose which they will have uppermost. Though you and all
+your own family may like to sleep hard, your guests may find it
+difficult to sleep at all on a mattrass with a paillasse under it. To
+many constitutions hard sleeping is not only intolerable, but pernicious
+to health.
+
+Let the centre-table be furnished with a writing-case well supplied with
+all that is necessary, the inkstand filled, and with _good black ink_;
+and some sheets of letter-paper and note-paper laid near it. Also, some
+books, such as you think your friend will like. Let her find, at least,
+one bureau vacant; _all_ the drawers empty, so that she may be able to
+unpack her muslins, &c., and arrange them at once. The same with the
+wardrobe or commode, so that she may have space to hang up her
+dresses--the press-closet, likewise, should be for her use while she
+stays.
+
+By giving up the spare bedroom _entirely_ to your visiter you will very
+much oblige her, and preclude the necessity of disturbing or
+interrupting her by coming in to get something out of drawers, closets,
+&c.
+
+Every morning, after the chambermaid has done her duty, (the room of the
+visiter is the first to be put in order,) the hostess should go in to
+see that all is right. This done, no further inspection is necessary for
+that day. There are ladies who, when a friend is staying with them, are
+continually slipping into her chamber when she is out of it, to see if
+the guest has done nothing amiss--such as moving a chair to suit her own
+convenience, or opening a shutter to let in more light, at the possible
+risk of hastening imperceptibly the fading of the carpet. There are
+families who condemn themselves to a perpetual twilight, by living in
+the dimness of closed shutters, to the great injury of their eyes. And
+this is endured to retard awhile the fading of furniture too showy for
+comfort. We have seen staircase-windows kept always shut and bolted, (so
+that visiters had to grope their way in darkness,) lest the small
+portion of stair-carpet just beneath the window should fade before the
+rest.
+
+It is not pleasant to be a guest in a house where you perceive that
+your hostess is continually and fretfully on the watch, lest some almost
+imperceptible injury should accrue to the furniture. We have known
+ladies who were always uneasy when their visiters sat down on a sofa or
+an ottoman, and could not forbear inviting them to change their seats
+and take chairs. We suppose the fear was that the more the
+damask-covered seats were used, the sooner they would wear out. Let no
+visiter be so rash as to sit on a pier-divan with her back near a
+mirror. The danger is imminent--not only of breaking the glass by
+inadvertently leaning against it, but of certainly fretting its owner,
+with uneasiness, all the time. Children should be positively interdicted
+taking these precarious seats.
+
+It is very kind and considerate to enquire of your guest if there is any
+dish, or article of food that she particularly likes, so that you may
+have it on the table while she stays; and also, if there is any thing
+peculiarly disagreeable to her, so that you may refrain from having it
+during her visit. A well-bred and sensible woman will not encroach upon
+your kindness, or take an undue advantage of it, in this respect or any
+other.
+
+For such deficiencies as may be avoided or remedied, refrain from making
+the foolish apology that you consider her "no stranger"--and that you
+regard her "just as one of the family." If you invite her at all, it is
+your duty, for your own sake as well as hers, to treat her well in every
+thing. You will lose nothing by doing so.
+
+If she desires to assist you in sewing, and has brought no work of her
+own, you may avail yourself of her offer, and employ her in
+moderation--but let it be in moderation only, and when sitting in the
+family circle. When alone in her own room, she, of course, would much
+rather read, write, or occupy herself in some way for her own benefit,
+or amusement. There are ladies who seem to expect that their guests
+should perform as much work as hired seamstresses.
+
+Let the children be strictly forbidden to run into the apartments of
+visiters. Interdict them from going thither, unless sent with a message;
+and then let them be made to understand that they are always to knock at
+the door, and not go in till desired to do so. Also, that they are not
+to play and make a noise in the neighbourhood of her room. And when she
+comes into the parlour, that they are not to jump on her lap, put their
+hands into her pockets, or rummage her work-basket, or rumple and soil
+her dress by clinging to it with their hands. Neither should they be
+permitted to amuse themselves by rattling on the lower keys when she is
+playing on the piano, or interrupt her by teazing her all the time to
+play "for them to dance." All this we have seen, and the mothers have
+never checked it. To permit children to ask visiters for pennies or
+sixpences is mean and contemptible. And, if money _is_ given them by a
+guest, they should be made to return it immediately.
+
+Enquire on the first evening, if your visiter is accustomed to taking
+any refreshment before she retires for the night. If she is, have
+something sent up to her room every night, unless your own family are
+in the same habit. Then let sufficient for all be brought into the
+parlour. These little repasts are very pleasant, especially at the close
+of a long winter evening, and after coming home from a place of public
+amusement.
+
+To "welcome the coming--speed the parting guest"--is a good maxim. So
+when your visiter is about to leave you, make all smooth and convenient
+for her departure. Let her be called up at an early hour, if she is to
+set out in the morning. Send a servant up to strap and bring down her
+trunks, as soon as she has announced that they are ready; and see that
+an early breakfast is prepared for her, and some of the family up and
+dressed to share it with her. Slip some cakes into her satchel for her
+to eat on the road, in case, by some chance, she should not reach the
+end of her journey at the usual hour. Have a carriage at the door in due
+time, and let some male member of the family accompany her to the
+starting-place and see her off, attending to her baggage and procuring
+her tickets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+TEA VISITERS.
+
+
+When you have invited a friend to take tea with you, endeavour to render
+her visit as agreeable as you can; and try by all means _to make her
+comfortable_. See that your lamps are lighted at an early hour,
+particularly those of the entry and stair-case, those parts of the house
+always becoming dark as soon as the sun is down; and to persons coming
+in directly from the light of the open air, they always seem darker than
+they really are. Have the parlours lighted rather earlier than usual,
+that your guest, on her entrance, may be in no danger of running against
+the tables, or stumbling over chairs. In rooms heated by a furnace, or
+by any other invisible fire, it is still more necessary to have the
+lamps lighted early.
+
+If there is a coal-grate, see that the fire is burning clear and
+brightly, that the bottom has been well-raked of cinders and ashes, and
+the hearth swept clean. A dull fire, half-choked with dead cinders, and
+an ashy hearth, give a slovenly and dreary aspect to the most elegantly
+furnished parlour. A sufficiently large grate (if the fire is well made
+up, and plenty of fresh coal put on about six o'clock) will generally
+require no further replenishing during the evening, unless the weather
+is unusually cold; and then more fuel should be added at eight or nine
+o'clock, so as to make the room comfortable.
+
+In summer evenings, let the window-sashes be kept up, or the slats of
+the venetian blinds turned open, so that your guest may find the
+atmosphere of the rooms cool and pleasant. There should always be fans
+(feather or palm-leaf) on the centre-tables.
+
+The domestic that attends the door should be instructed to show the
+guest up-stairs, as soon as she arrives; conducting her to an unoccupied
+apartment, where she may take off her bonnet, and arrange her hair, or
+any part of her dress that may require change or improvement. The lady
+should then be left to herself. Nothing is polite that can possibly
+incommode or embarrass--therefore, it is a mistaken civility for the
+hostess, or some female member of the family to follow the visiter
+up-stairs, and remain with her all the time she is preparing for her
+appearance in the parlour. We have seen an inquisitive little girl
+permitted by her mother to accompany a guest to the dressing-table, and
+watch her all the while she was at the glass; even following her to the
+corner in which she changed her shoes; the child talking, and asking
+questions incessantly. This should not be. Let both mothers and children
+understand that, on all occasions, over-officiousness is not politeness,
+and that nothing troublesome and inconvenient is ever agreeable.
+
+The toilet-table should be always furnished with a clean hair-brush, and
+a nice comb. We recommend those hair-brushes that have a mirror on the
+back, so as to afford the lady a glimpse of the back of her head and
+neck. Better still, as an appendage to a dressing-table, is a regular
+hand-mirror, of sufficient size to allow a really _satisfactory_ view.
+These hand-mirrors are very convenient, to be used in conjunction with
+the large dressing-glass. Their cost is but trifling. The
+toilet-pincushion should always have pins in it. A small work-box
+properly furnished with needles, scissors, thimble, and cotton-spools,
+ought also to find a place on the dressing-table, in case the visiter
+may have occasion to repair any accident that may have happened to her
+dress.
+
+For want of proper attention to such things, in an ill-ordered, though
+perhaps a very showy establishment, we have known an _expected_ visiter
+ushered first into a dark entry, then shown into a dark parlour with an
+ashy hearth, and the fire nearly out: then, after groping her way to a
+seat, obliged to wait till a small hand-lamp could be procured to light
+her dimly up a steep, sharp-turning stair-case; and then, by the same
+lamp, finding on the neglected dressing-table a broken comb, an old
+brush, and an empty pincushion,--or (quite as probably) nothing at
+all--not to mention two or three children coming to watch and stare at
+her. On returning to the parlour, the visiter would probably find the
+fire just then making up, and the lamp still unlighted, because it had
+first to be trimmed. Meanwhile, the guest commences her visit with an
+uncomfortable feeling of self-reproach for coming too early; all things
+denoting that she was not expected so soon. In such houses everybody
+comes too early. However late, there will be nothing in readiness.
+
+The hostess should be in the parlour, prepared to receive her visiter,
+and to give her at once a seat in the corner of a sofa, or in a
+fauteuil, or large comfortable chair; if a rocking-chair, a footstool is
+an indispensable appendage. By-the-bye, the dizzy and ungraceful
+practice of rocking in a rocking-chair is now discontinued by all
+genteel people, except when entirely alone. A lady should never be seen
+to rock in a chair, and the rocking of a gentleman looks silly. Rocking
+is only fit for a nurse putting a baby to sleep. When children get into
+a large rocking-chair, they usually rock it over backward, and fall out.
+These chairs are now seldom seen in a parlour. Handsome, stuffed easy
+chairs, that are moved on castors, are substituted--and of these, half a
+dozen of various forms are not considered too many.
+
+Give your visiter a fan to cool herself, if the room is warm, or to
+shade her eyes from the glare of the fire or the light--for the latter
+purpose, a broad hand-screen is generally used, but a palm-leaf fan will
+do for both. In buying these fans, choose those whose handle is the firm
+natural stem, left remaining on the leaf. They are far better than those
+with handles of bamboo, which in a short time become loose and rickety.
+
+There are many persons who, professing never to use a fan themselves,
+seem to think that nobody can by any chance require one; and therefore
+they selfishly keep nothing of the sort in their rooms.
+
+If, in consequence of dining very late, you are in the custom of also
+taking tea at a late hour--or making but slight preparations for that
+repast--waive that custom when you expect a friend whom you know to be
+in the practice of dining early, and who, perhaps, has walked far enough
+to feel fatigued, and to acquire an appetite. For her accommodation,
+order the tea earlier than usual, and let it be what is called "a _good_
+tea." If there is ample room at table, do not have the tea carried
+round,--particularly if you have but one servant to hand the whole. It
+is tedious, inconvenient, and unsatisfactory. There is no comfortable
+way of eating bread and butter, toast, or buttered cakes, except when
+seated at table. When handed round, there is always a risk of their
+greasing the dresses of the ladies--the greasing of fingers is
+inevitable--though that is of less consequence, now that the absurd
+practice of eating in gloves is wisely abolished among genteel people.
+
+Still, if the company is too numerous for all to be commodiously seated
+at the usual family table, and if the table cannot be enlarged--it is
+better to have tea carried round by _two_ servants, even if an extra one
+is hired for the occasion, than to crowd your guests uncomfortably. One
+person too many will cause inconvenience to all the rest, however the
+hostess may try to pass it off, by assuring the company that there is
+quite room enough, and that she has seen a still larger number seated
+round that very table. Everybody knows that "what's impossible a'n't
+true."
+
+In setting a tea-table, see that there is not only enough, but _more
+than enough_ of cups and saucers, plates, knives and forks, spoons,
+napkins, &c. Let the _extra_ articles be placed near the lady of the
+house,--to be distributed, if wanted. We have known families who had the
+means and the inclination to be hospitable, that never sat down to table
+without several spare _covers_, as the French call them, ready for
+accidental guests.
+
+Unless you have domestics on whom you can implicitly rely, it is well to
+go into the eating-room about ten minutes before the announcement of
+tea, and to see that all is right; that the tea is strong and properly
+made, and the pot (which should be scalded twice) is not filled nearly
+to overflowing with a superabundance of water. The practice of drowning
+away all the flavour of the tea is strangely prevalent with servants;
+who are also very apt to neglect scalding the tea-pot; and who do not,
+or will not, remember that the kettle should be boiling hard at the
+moment the water is poured on the tea--otherwise the infusion will be
+insipid and tasteless, no matter how liberally the Chinese plant has
+been afforded.
+
+If your cook is not _habitually_ a good coffee-maker, the coffee will
+most probably be sent in cold, thick, and weak--for want of some
+previous supervision. Let it have that supervision.
+
+We have heard of tea-tables (even in splendid establishments) being left
+entirely to the _mis_management of incompetent or negligent servants; so
+that when the company sat down, there was found a deficiency in some of
+the indispensable appendages; such as spoons, and even forks, and
+napkins--butter-knives forgotten, and (worse than all) _cooking-butter_
+served in mistake for the better sort. By-the-bye, the use of
+cooking-butter should be abolished in all genteel-houses. If the butter
+is not good enough to eat on the surface of cold bread or on warm cakes,
+it is not good enough to eat in the inside of sweet cakes, or in pastry,
+or in any thing else; and is totally unfit to be mixed with vegetables
+or sauces. The use of butter is to make things taste well; if it makes
+them taste ill, let it be entirely omitted: for bad butter is not only
+unpalatable, but unwholesome. There are houses in which the money wasted
+on one useless bauble for the drawing-room would furnish the family with
+excellent fresh butter for a whole year--enough for all purposes.
+
+We know, _by experience_, that it is possible to make very fine butter
+even in the State of New York, and to have it fresh in winter as in
+summer, though not so rich and yellow. Let the cows be well fed, well
+sheltered, and _kept fat_ and clean--the dairy utensils always in
+perfect order--churning done twice or thrice every week--all the milk
+worked well out--and the butter will surely be good.
+
+If cakes for tea have been made at home, and they have turned out
+failures, (as is often the case with home-made cakes where there is not
+much practice in baking them,) do not have them brought to table at all,
+but send to a shop and get others. It is rude to set before your guests
+what you know is unfit for them to eat. And heavy, tough, ill-baked
+things are discreditable to any house where the means of obtaining
+better are practicable.
+
+In sending for cakes to a confectioner, do not _a second time_ allow him
+to put you off with stale ones. This many confectioners are in the
+practice of doing, if it is passed over without notice. Stale cakes
+should at once be sent back, (with a proper reproof,) and fresh ones
+required. Let the confectioner with whom you deal understand that he is
+_not_ to palm off his stale cakes upon _you_, and that you will not keep
+them when sent. You will then find that fresh ones will generally be
+forthcoming. It is always well to send for cakes in the early part of
+the afternoon.
+
+Have a pitcher of ice-water on the side-table, and a tumbler beside
+every plate--as most persons like to finish with a glass of water.
+
+Do not, on sitting down to table, inform your guest that "you make no
+stranger of her," or that you fear she will not be able to "make out" at
+your plain table. These apologies are ungenteel and foolish. If your
+circumstances will not allow you _on any consideration_ to make a little
+improvement in your usual family-fare, your friend is, in all
+probability, aware of the fact, and will not wish or expect you to incur
+any inconvenient expense on her account. But if you are known to possess
+the means of living well, you ought to do so; and to consider a good,
+though not an extravagantly luxurious table as a necessary part of your
+expenditure. There is a vast difference between laudable economy and
+mean economy. The latter (whether it shows itself in bad food, bad
+fires, bad lights, bad servants) is never excused in persons who dress
+extravagantly, and live surrounded by costly furniture, and who are
+universally known to be wealthy, and fully able to afford comfort, as
+well as show.
+
+If you invite a friend to tea, in whose own family there is no
+gentlemen, or no man-servant, it is your duty previously to ascertain
+that you can provide her on that evening with an escort home; and in
+giving the invitation, you should tell her so, that she may know on what
+to depend. If you keep a carriage, it will be most kind to send her home
+in it.
+
+Even if it is your rule to have the entry-lamp extinguished at a certain
+hour, let your servants understand that this rule must be dispensed
+with, as long as an evening-visiter remains in the house. Also, do not
+have the linen covers put on the furniture, and the house audibly shut
+up for the night, before she has gone. To do this is rude, because she
+cannot but receive it as a hint that she has staid too long.
+
+If your visiter is obliged to go home with no other escort than your
+servant-man, apprize him, in time, that this duty will be expected of
+him; desiring that he takes care to be at hand before ten o'clock.
+
+A lady that has no escort whose services she can command, ought not to
+make unexpected tea-visits. In many cases these visits produce more
+inconvenience than pleasure. If you wish to "take tea sociably" with a
+friend, inform her previously of your intention. She will then let you
+know if she is disengaged on that evening, or if it is in any way
+inconvenient to receive you; and she will herself appoint another time.
+Generally, it is best not to volunteer a tea-visit, but to wait till
+invited.
+
+If you are engaged to take tea with an intimate friend, who assures you
+that you will see none but the family; and you afterward receive an
+invitation to join a party to a place of public amusement, which you
+have long been desirous of visiting, you may retract your first
+engagement, provided you send an apology in due time, telling the exact
+truth, and telling it in polite terms. Your intimate friend will then
+take no offence, considering it perfectly natural that you should prefer
+the concert, the play, or the exhibition, to a quiet evening passed at
+her house with no other guests. But take care to let her know as early
+as possible.[2] And be careful not to disappoint her again in a similar
+manner.
+
+If you are accustomed to taking coffee in the evening, and have an
+insuperable dislike to tea, it is best not to make an _unexpected_
+visit--or at least, if you go at all, go early--so as to allow ample
+time for the making of coffee--a much slower process than that of tea;
+particularly as there may chance to be no roasted coffee in the house.
+Much inconvenience has been caused by the "sociable visiting" of
+determined coffee-drinkers. It is very easy to make green or black tea
+at a short notice--but not coffee.
+
+In inviting "a few friends," which means a small select company,
+endeavour to assort them suitably, so as not to bring together people
+who have no community of tastes, feelings, and ideas. If you mix the
+dull and stupid with the bright and animated, the cold and formal with
+the frank and lively, the professedly serious with the gay and cheerful,
+the light with the heavy, and above all, those who pride themselves on
+high birth (high birth in America?) with those who boast of "belonging
+to the people," none of these "few friends" will enjoy each other's
+society; the evening will _not_ go off agreeably, and you and the other
+members of your family will have the worst of it. The pleasantest people
+in the room will naturally congregate together, and the task of
+entertaining the unentertainable will devolve on yourself and your own
+people.
+
+Still, it is difficult always to assort your company to your
+satisfaction and theirs. A very charming lady may have very dull or very
+silly sisters. An intelligent and refined daughter may be unfortunate in
+a coarse, ignorant mother, or a prosing, tiresome, purse-proud father.
+Some of the most delighted persons you may wish to invite, may be
+encumbered with relations totally incapable of adding any thing to the
+pleasure of the evening;--for instance, the numerous automatons, whom we
+must charitably believe are speechless merely from diffidence, and of
+whom we are told, that "if we only knew them," we should discover them,
+on intimate acquaintance, to be "quite intelligent people." Perhaps so.
+But we cannot help thinking that when a head is full of ideas, some of
+them will involuntarily ooze out and be manifest. Diffidence is very
+becoming to young people, and to those who are new to the world. But it
+is hardly credible that it should produce a painful taciturnity in
+persons who have passed from youth into maturity; and who have enjoyed
+the advantages of education and of living in good society. Still those
+who, as the French say, have "a great talent for silence," may redeem
+themselves from suspicion of stupidity, by listening attentively and
+understandingly. A good talker is never displeased with a good hearer.
+
+We have often met with young ladies from whom it was scarcely possible
+for one of their own sex to extract more than a few monosyllables at
+long intervals; those intervals being passed in dozing, rather than in
+hearing. And yet, if any thing in the shape of a beau presented itself,
+the tongues of these "dumb belles" were immediately loosened, and the
+wells of their minds commenced running as glibly as possible. To be
+sure, the talk amounted to nothing definite; but still they _did_ talk,
+and often became quite lively in a few minutes. Great is the power of
+beaux!
+
+To return to the tea-table.--Unless you are positively sure, when you
+have a visiter, that she drinks the same tea that is used in your own
+family, you should have both black and green on the table. Either sort
+is often extremely disagreeable to persons who take the other. Drinkers
+of green tea, for instance, have generally an unconquerable aversion to
+black, as tasting like hay, herbs, &c., and they find in it no
+refreshing or exhilarating property. In some, it produces nausea. Few,
+on the other hand, dislike the taste of _good_ green tea, but they
+assign as a reason for not drinking it, that it is supposed from its
+enlivening qualities to affect the nerves. Judge Bushrod Washington, who
+always drank green, and avoided black, said that, "he took tea as a
+beverage, not as a medicine." And there are a vast number of sensible
+people in the same category. If your guest is a votary of green tea,
+have it made for her, in time for the essence of the leaves to be well
+drawn forth. It is no compliment to give her green tea that is weak and
+washy. And do not, at your own table, be so rude as to lecture her upon
+the superior wholesomeness of black tea. For more than a century, green
+tea was universally drunk in every house, and there was then less talk
+of nervous diseases than during the reign of Souchong,--which,
+by-the-bye, is nearly exploded in the best European society.
+
+In pouring out, do not fill the cups to the brim. Always send the cream
+and sugar round, that each person may use those articles according to
+their own taste. Also, send round a small pot of hot water, that those
+who like their tea weak may conveniently dilute it. If tea is handed, a
+servant should, at the last, carry round a water-pitcher and glasses.
+
+Whether at dinner or tea, if yourself and family are in the habit of
+eating fast, (which, by the way, is a very bad and unwholesome one, and
+justly cited against us by our English cousins,) and you see that your
+visiter takes her food deliberately, endeavour (for that time at least)
+to check the rapidity of your own mastication, so as not to finish
+before she has done, and thus compel her to hurry herself uncomfortably,
+or be left alone while every one round her is sitting unoccupied and
+impatient. Or rather, let the family eat a little more than usual, or
+seem to do so, out of politeness to their guest.
+
+When refreshments are brought in after tea, let them be placed on the
+centre-table, and handed round from thence by the gentlemen to the
+ladies. If there are only four or five persons present, it may be more
+convenient for all to sit round the table--which should not be cleared
+till after all the visiters have gone, that the things may again be
+offered before the departure of the guests.
+
+If a friend makes an afternoon call, and you wish her to stay and take
+tea, invite her to do so at once, as soon as she has sat down; and do
+not wait till she has risen to depart. If she consents to stay, there
+will then be ample time to make any additional preparation for tea that
+may be expedient; and she will also know, at once, that you have no
+engagement for the evening, and that she is not intruding on your time,
+or preventing you from going out. If you are intimate friends, and your
+guest is disposed to have a long chat, she will do well to ask you, at
+the beginning, if you are disengaged, or design going out that
+afternoon.
+
+We knew a very sensible and agreeable lady in Philadelphia, who liking
+better to have company at home than to go out herself, made a rule of
+inviting every day, half a dozen friends (not more) to take tea with
+her--just as many as could sit round the table, "with ample room and
+verge enough." These friends she assorted judiciously. And therefore she
+never asked a whole family at once; those who were left out
+understanding that they would be invited another time. For instance, she
+would send a note for the father and mother only--to meet another father
+and mother or two. A few weeks after, a billet would come for the young
+people only. But if there were _several_ young people, some were
+delayed--thus--"I wish James and Eliza to take tea with me this evening,
+to meet so-and-so. Another time I promise myself the pleasure of
+Edward's company, and Mary's."
+
+This distribution of invitations never gave offence.
+
+Those who were honoured with the acquaintance of such a lady were not
+likely to be displeased at so sensible a mode of receiving them. These
+little tea-drinkings were always pleasant, and often delightful. The
+hostess was well qualified to make them so.
+
+Though the refreshments were of the best kind, and in sufficient
+abundance, and the fires, lights, &c. all as they should be, there was
+no ostentatious display, and the ladies were dressed no more than if
+they were spending a quiet evening at home--party-finery being
+interdicted--also, such needle-work as required constant attention to
+every stitch.
+
+If you have a friend who is in somewhat precarious health, and who is
+afraid of being out in the night air, or who lives in a distant part of
+the town, invite her to dinner, or to pass the day, rather than to tea.
+She will then be able to get home before twilight.
+
+There is in Boston a very fashionable and very distinguished lady, who,
+since her return from Europe, has relinquished the custom of giving
+large parties; and now entertains her friends by, almost every day,
+having two or three to dine with her,--by invitation. These dinners are
+charming. The hour is according to the season--earlier in winter, later
+in summer--the guests departing before dark, and the lady always having
+the evening to herself.
+
+We know a gentleman in Philadelphia, who every Monday has a family-dinner
+at his house, for all his children and grandchildren, who there meet and
+enjoy themselves before the eyes of the father and mother--a friend or
+two being also invited. Nothing can be more pleasant than to see them all
+there together, none staying away,--for parents, children, sons-in-law,
+daughters-in-law, sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, are all at peace, and
+all meeting in friendship--unhappily, a rare case, where there is a large
+connection, and considerable wealth.
+
+We wish that social intercourse was more frequently conducted on the
+plan of the few examples above cited.
+
+Should chance-visiters come in before the family have gone to tea, let
+them at once be invited to partake of that repast; which they will of
+course decline, if they have had tea already. In a well-provided house,
+there can be no difficulty in adding something to the family tea-table,
+which, in genteel life, should never be discreditably parsimonious.
+
+It is a very mean practice, for the members of the family to slip out of
+the parlour, one by one at a time, and steal away into the eating-room,
+to avoid inviting their visiter to accompany them. The truth is always
+suspected by these separate exits, and the length of absence from the
+parlour--and is frequently betrayed by the rattle of china, and the
+pervading fumes of hot cakes. How much better to meet the inconvenience
+(and it cannot be a great one) by decently conducting your accidental
+guest to the table, unless he says he has already taken tea, and will
+amuse himself with a book while the family are at theirs.
+
+Casual evening visiters should avoid staying too late. Ten o'clock, in
+our country, is the usual time to depart, or at least to begin
+departing. If the visit is unduly prolonged, there may be evident signs
+of irrepressible drowsiness in the heads of the family, which, when
+perceived, will annoy the guest, who must then feel that he has stayed
+too long--and without being able to excuse himself with any approach to
+the elegance of William Spencer's apology to the charming Lady Anne
+Hamilton.
+
+    Too late I stay'd--forgive the crime;
+      Unheeded flew the hours,
+    For noiseless falls the foot of Time
+      That only treads on flowers.
+    Ah! who with clear account remarks
+      The ebbing of the glass,
+    When all its sands are diamond sparks,
+      That dazzle as they pass!
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[2] Where the city-post is to be depended on, a note can always be sent
+in that way.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE ENTREE.
+
+
+A lady is said to have the _entree_ of her friend's room, when she is
+allowed or assumes the privilege of entering it familiarly at all times,
+and without any previous intimation--a privilege too often abused. In
+many cases, the visited person has never really granted this privilege,
+(and after growing wise by experience, she rarely will;) but the
+visiter, assuming that she herself must, under all circumstances, be
+welcome, carries her sociability so far as to become troublesome and
+inconvenient. Consequently, their friendship begins to abate in its
+warmth. No one likes to be annoyed, or be intruded on at all hours. So
+the visited begins to think of the adage, "My room is my castle," and
+the visiter finds that seeing a friend under all circumstances somewhat
+diminishes respect, and that "familiarity brings contempt."
+
+There are few occasions on which it is well, on entering a house, to run
+directly to the chamber of your friend, and to bolt into her room
+without knocking; or the very instant _after_ knocking, before she has
+time to desire you to enter, or to make the slightest arrangement for
+your reception. You may find her washing, or dressing, or in bed, or
+even engaged in repairing clothes,--or the room may be in great
+disorder, or the chambermaid in the act of cleaning it. No one likes
+unseasonable interruptions, even from a very dear friend. That friend
+would be dearer still, if she had sufficient tact and consideration to
+refrain from causing these annoyances. Also, friendships are not always
+lasting--particularly those that become inordinately violent, and where
+both parties, by their excessive intimacy, put themselves too much into
+each other's power. Very mortifying disclosures are sometimes made after
+a quarrel, between two Hermias and Helenas, when recrimination begins to
+come, and mutual enmity takes the place of mutual kindness.
+
+A familiar visit will always begin more pleasantly, if the visiter
+enquires of the servant at the door if the lady she wishes to see is at
+home, and then goes into the parlour, and stays there till she has sent
+her name, and ascertained that she can be received up-stairs.[3] Then
+(and not till then) let her go to her friend's room, and still remember
+to knock at the door before she enters. Let her have patience till her
+friend bids her come in, or has time to rise, cross the room, and come
+to open the door, if it is fastened.
+
+It is extremely rude, on being admitted to a private apartment, to look
+curiously about, as if taking an inventory of all that is to be seen. We
+have known ladies whose eyes were all the time gazing round, and even
+slily peering under tables, sofas, &c.; turning their heads to look
+after every person who chanced to be moving about the room, and giving
+particular attention to whatever seemed to be in disorder or out of
+place. Nay, we have known one who prided herself upon the gentility of
+her forefathers and foremothers, rise from her seat when her hostess
+opened a bureau-drawer, or a closet-door, and cross the room, to stand
+by and inspect the contents of said bureau or closet, while open--a
+practice very common with ill-taught _children_, but which certainly
+should be rebuked out of them long before they are grown up.
+
+Make no remark upon the work in which you find your friend engaged. If
+she lays it aside, desire her not to quit it because of your presence;
+but propound no questions concerning it. Do not look over her books, and
+ask to borrow them. In short, meddle with nothing.
+
+Some ladies never enter the room of an intimate friend without
+immediately exclaiming against its heat or its cold--seldom the latter,
+but very frequently the former, as it is rather fashionable to be always
+too warm; perhaps because it makes them seem younger. If they really are
+uncomfortably warm on a very cold day, we think it can only be from the
+glow produced by the exercise of walking. This glow must naturally
+subside in a few minutes, if they would sit down and wait with a little
+patience, or else avail themselves of the fan which ought to be at hand
+in every room. We have known ladies of this warm temperament, who had
+sufficient consideration always to carry a pocket-fan in winter as well
+as summer. This is far better than to break out instantly with a
+complaint of the heat of the room, or to run and throw up a window-sash,
+or fling open the door, at the risk of giving cold to others. No
+intimacy can authorize these freedoms in a cold day, unless permission
+has first been asked, and sincerely granted.
+
+If you are perfectly certain that you have really the entree of your
+friend's room, and even if she has the same of yours, you have no right
+ever to extend that privilege to any other person who may chance to be
+with you when you go to see her. It is taking an unjustifiable liberty
+to intrude a stranger upon the privacy of her chamber. If another lady
+is with you, waive your privilege of entree for that time, take your
+companion into the parlour, and send up the names of both, and do not
+say, "Oh! come up, come up--I am on no ceremony with her, and I am sure
+she will not _mind you_." And how can you be sure? Perhaps in reality,
+she _will_ mind her very much, and be greatly discomfited, though too
+polite to appear so.
+
+There are certain unoccupied females so over-friendly as to take the
+entree of the whole house. These are, generally, ultra-neighbourly
+neighbours, who run in at all hours of the day and evening; ferret out
+the ladies of the family, wherever they may be--up-stairs or down; watch
+all their proceedings when engaged, like good housewives, in inspecting
+the attics, the store-rooms, the cellars, or the kitchens. Never for a
+moment do they seem to suppose that their hourly visits may perhaps be
+inconvenient or unseasonable; or too selfish to abate their frequency,
+even when they suspect them to be so, these inveterate sociablists make
+their incursions at all avenues. If they find that the front-door is
+kept locked, they glide down the area-steps, and get in through the
+basement. Or else, they discover some back-entrance, by which they can
+slip in at "the postern-gate"--that is, alley-wise:--sociablists are not
+proud. At first, the sociablist will say, on making her third or fourth
+appearance for the day, "Who comes to see you oftener than I?" But after
+awhile even this faint shadow of an apology is omitted--or changed to
+"Nobody minds _me_." She is quite domesticated in your house--an
+absolute _habitue_. She sees all, hears all, knows all your concerns. Of
+course she does. Her talk _to_ you is chiefly gossip, and therefore her
+talk _about_ you is chiefly the same. She is _au-fait_ of every thing
+concerning your table, for after she has had her dinner at her own home,
+she comes bolting into your dining-room and "sits by," and sees you eat
+yours. It is well if she does not begin with "a look in" upon you before
+breakfast. She finds out everybody that comes to your house; knows all
+your plans for going to this place or that; is well acquainted with
+every article that you wear; is present at the visits of all your
+friends, and hears all their conversation. Her own is usually "an
+infinite deal of nothing."
+
+A sociablist is commonly what is called good-natured, or else you would
+not endure her at all--and you believe, for a time, that she really has
+an extraordinary liking for you. After awhile, you are undeceived. A
+coolness ensues, if not a quarrel, and you are glad to find that she
+carries her sociability to another market, and that a new friend is now
+suffering all that you have experienced. To avoid the danger of being
+overwhelmed by the sociability of an idle neighbour, discourage the
+first indications of undue intimacy, by making your own visits rather
+few, and rather far between. A young lady of good sense, and of proper
+self-respect, will never be too lavish of her society; and if she has
+pleasant neighbours, will visit them always in moderation. And their
+friendship will last the longer.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[3] If the visiter has been properly announced, a well-trained servant
+will, in all probability, run up before her, and open the room-door.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+INTRODUCTIONS.
+
+
+Fashion, in its various unmeaning freaks, sometimes decrees that it is
+not "stylish to introduce strangers." But this is a whim that, whenever
+attempted, has neither become general nor lasted long. It has seldom
+been adopted by persons of good sense and good manners--and very rarely
+by that fortunate class whose elevated standing in society enables them
+to act as they please, in throwing aside the fetters of absurd
+conventionalities, and who can afford to do so.
+
+Non-introduction has been found, in many instances, to produce both
+inconvenience and vexation. Persons who had long known each other by
+reputation, and who would have rejoiced in an opportunity of becoming
+personally acquainted, have met in society, without being aware of it
+till afterward; and the opportunity has never recurred. One of our most
+distinguished literary Americans was seated at a dinner-party next to an
+European lady equally distinguished in literature; but as there were no
+introductions, he was not aware of her presence till the party was over
+and the lady gone. The lady knew who the gentleman was, and would gladly
+have conversed with him; but as he did not speak, because he was not
+introduced, she had not courage to commence--though she might have done
+so with perfect propriety, considering who _he_ was, and who _she_ was.
+
+Still worse--from not knowing who are present, you may inadvertently
+fall upon a subject of conversation that, for private reasons, may be
+extremely irksome or painful to some of the company; for instance, in
+discussing a public character. Severe or mortifying remarks may
+unintentionally be made on the near relative, or on the intimate
+companion, of one whom you would on no account desire to offend. And in
+this way you may make enemies, where, under other circumstances, you
+would have made friends. In such cases, it is the duty of the hostess,
+or of any mutual acquaintance, immediately to introduce both parties,
+and thus prevent any further animadversions that, may be _mal-a-propos_,
+or in any way annoying. It is safest, when among strangers, to refrain
+from bitter animadversions on anybody.
+
+In introducing a gentleman to a lady, address _her_ first, as for
+instance--"Miss Smith, permit me to make you acquainted with Mr.
+Jones"--or, "Mrs. Farley, allow me to present Mr. Wilson"--that is, you
+must introduce the gentleman to the lady, rather than the lady to the
+gentleman. Also, if one lady is married and the other single, present
+the single lady to the matron, as--"Miss Thomson, let me introduce you
+to Mrs. Williams."[4]
+
+In introducing a foreigner, it is proper to present him as "Mr. Howard
+from England"--"Mr. Dupont from France"--"Mr. Wenzel from Germany." If
+you know of what European city he is a resident, it is better still, to
+say that he is "from London,"--"Paris,"--"Hamburg." Likewise, in
+introducing one of your own countrymen very recently returned from a
+distant part of the world, make him known as "Mr. Davis, just from
+China"--"Mr. Edwards, lately from Spain"--"Mr. Gordon, recently from
+South America." These slight specifications are easily made; and they
+afford, at once, an opening for conversation between the two strangers,
+as it will be perfectly natural to ask "the late arrived" something
+about the country he has last visited, or at least about his voyage.
+
+When presenting a member of Congress, mention the State to which he
+belongs, as, "Mr. Hunter of Virginia"--"Mr. Chase of Ohio," &c.
+Recollect that both senators and gentlemen of the house of
+representatives are members of Congress--Congress including the two
+legislative bodies. In introducing a governor, designate the state he
+governs--as, "Governor Penington of New Jersey." For the chief
+magistrate of the republic, say simply--"The President."
+
+In introducing an officer, tell always to which service he belongs--as
+"Captain Turner of the Navy"--"Captain Anderson of the Army."
+
+We regret the custom of continuing to give military titles to militia
+officers. Foreigners are justly diverted at finding _soi-disant_
+generals and colonels among men who fill very subordinate stations in
+civil life--men that, however respectable in their characters, may be
+deficient in the appearance, manners, or education that should belong to
+a regular officer. This foolish practice can only be done away by the
+militia officers themselves (those that really are gentlemen--and there
+are many) magnanimously declining to be called generals, colonels, &c.
+except on parade occasions; and when actually engaged in militia duty.
+Let them omit these titles on their cards, and request that no letters
+be directed to them with such superscriptions; and that in introductions
+or in conversation they may be only addressed as plain Mr. It is still
+more absurd to continue these military titles long after they have
+ceased to hold the office,--and above all, to persist in them when
+travelling in foreign countries, tacitly permitting it to be supposed
+that they own commissions in the regular service.
+
+English tourists (even when they know better) make this practice a
+handle for pretending, in their books, that the officers of the American
+army are so badly paid, or so eager to make additional money, that they
+exercise all sorts of trades, and engage in the humblest occupations to
+help themselves along. They tell of seeing a captain stitching coats, a
+major making shoes, a colonel driving a stage, and a general selling
+butter in market--sneeringly representing them as regular officers of
+the United States army. Is it true that we republicans have such a
+hankering after titles? If so, "reform it altogether." And let one of
+the first steps be to omit the "Esq." in directing a letter to an
+American citizen, for whom the title can have no meaning. In England it
+signifies the possessor of an estate in the country, including the
+office of justice of peace. In America, it means a magistrate only; who
+may live in a city, and own not an inch of ground anywhere. But why
+should all manner of men, of all trades, and professions, expect to see
+an "Esq." after their name, when with reference to _them_, it can have
+no rational application?
+
+An introduction should always be given in a distinct and audible voice,
+so that the name may be clearly understood. The purpose is defeated, if
+it is murmured over in so low a tone as to be unintelligible. And yet
+how often is this the case; for what reason it is difficult to divine.
+It is usual for the introducee to repeat the name of the introduced.
+This will prove that it has really been heard. For instance, if Mrs.
+Smith presents Miss Brook to Miss Miles, Miss Miles immediately says,
+"Miss Brook"--or better still--"Miss Brook, I am glad to meet you," or
+something similar. Miss Miles then begins a talk.
+
+If you introduce yourself to a lady whom you wish to know, but who does
+not know _you_, address her by her name, express your desire to make her
+acquaintance, and then give her your card. Replying that it affords her
+pleasure to meet you, she will give you her hand, and commence a
+conversation, so as to put you quite at ease after your
+self-introduction.
+
+In introducing members of your own family, always mention, audibly, the
+name. It is not sufficient to say "my father," or "my mother"--"my son,"
+"my daughter"--"my brother," or "my sister." There may be more than one
+surname in the same family. But say, "my father, Mr. Warton,"--"my
+daughter, Miss Wood"--or "my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Wood"--"my sister,
+Miss Mary Ramsay"--"my brother, Mr. James Ramsay," &c. It is best in all
+these things to be explicit. The eldest daughter is usually introduced
+by her surname only--as "Miss Bradford"--her younger sisters, as "Miss
+Maria Bradford"--"Miss Harriet Bradford."
+
+In presenting a clergyman, put the word "Reverend" before his
+name--unless he is a bishop, and then, of course, the word "Bishop"
+suffices. The head of a college-department introduce as "Professor"--and
+it is to them only that the title properly belongs, though arrogated by
+all sorts of public exhibitors, mesmerists and jugglers included.
+
+Where the company is large, the ladies of the house should have tact
+enough to avoid introducing and placing together persons who cannot
+possibly assimilate, or take pleasure in each other's society. The dull,
+and the silly, will be far happier with their compeers. To a woman of
+talent, and a good conversationist, it is a cruelty to put her
+unnecessarily in contact with stupid, or unmeaning people. She is wasted
+and thrown away upon such as are neither amusing nor amusable. Neither
+is it well to bring together a gay, lively woman of the world, and a
+solemn, serious, repulsive dame, who is a contemner of the world and all
+its enjoyments. There can be no conversation that is mutually agreeable,
+between a real lady of true delicacy and refinement, and a so-called
+lady whose behaviour and talk are coarse and vulgar,--or between a woman
+of highly cultivated mind, and one who is grossly ignorant of every
+thing connected with books, and who boasts of that ignorance. We have
+heard a lady of fashion say, "Thank God, I never read." The answer might
+well have been, "You need not tell us that."
+
+In inviting but a small company, it is indispensable to the pleasure of
+all, that you ask none who are strikingly unsuitable to the rest--or
+whose presence will throw a damp on conversation. Especially avoid
+bringing into the same room, persons who are at notorious enmity with
+each other, even if, unhappily, they should be members of the same
+family. Those who are known as adversaries should be invited on
+different evenings.
+
+Avoid giving invitations to bores. They will come without.
+
+The word "bore" has an unpleasant and an inelegant sound. Still, we have
+not, as yet, found any substitute that so well expresses the
+meaning,--which, we opine, is a dull, tiresome man, or "a weariful
+woman," either inveterately silent, or inordinately talkative, but never
+saying any thing worth hearing, or worth remembering--people whom you
+receive unwillingly, and whom you take leave of with joy; and who, not
+having perception enough to know that their visits are always unwelcome,
+are the most sociable visiters imaginable, and the longest stayers.
+
+In a conversation at Abbotsford, there chanced to be something said in
+reference to bores--those beings in whom "man delights not, nor woman
+neither." Sir Walter Scott asserted, humourously, that bores were always
+"good respectable people." "Otherwise," said he "there could be no
+bores. For if they were also scoundrels or brutes, we would keep no
+measures with them, but at once kick them out the house, and shut the
+door in their faces."
+
+When you wish an introduction to a stranger lady, apply to your hostess,
+or to some of the family, or to one of the guests that is acquainted
+with that lady: you will then be led up and presented to her. Do not
+expect the stranger to be brought to you; it is your place to go to her.
+
+If you are requested by a female friend to introduce her to a
+distinguished gentleman, a public character, be not so ungenerous as to
+go _immediately_ and conspicuously to inform him of the fact. But spare
+her delicacy, by deferring the ceremony for a while; and then take an
+opportunity of saying to him, "I shall be glad to make you acquainted
+with my friend Miss Morris. Come with me, and I will introduce you."
+When the introduction has thus taken place, you may with propriety leave
+them together to entertain each other for awhile; particularly if both
+parties are capable of doing so. And then, after a quarter of an hour's
+conversation, let the lady release the gentleman from further
+attendance, by bowing to him, and turning to some other acquaintance who
+may not be far off. She can leave _him_ much more easily than he can
+leave _her_, and it will be better to do so in proper time, than to
+detain him too long. It is generally in his power to return to her
+before the close of the evening, and if he is pleased with her society,
+he will probably make an opportunity of doing so.
+
+If he is what is called a lion, consideration for the rest of the
+company should admonish her not to monopolize him. But lions usually
+know how to get away adroitly. By-the-bye, she must not talk to him of
+his professional celebrity, or ask him at once for his autograph.
+
+We saw no less a person than Charles Dickens compelled, at a large
+party, to devote the whole evening to writing autographs for a multitude
+of young ladies--many of whom, not satisfied with obtaining one of his
+signatures for themselves, desired half a dozen others for "absent
+friends." All conversation ceased with the first requisition for an
+autograph. He had no chance of saying any thing. We were a little
+ashamed of our fair townswomen.
+
+Should it fall to your lot to introduce any of the English nobility,
+take care (before hand) to inform yourself exactly what their titles
+really are. Americans are liable to make sad blunders in these things.
+It may be well to know that a duke is the highest title of British
+nobility, and that his wife is a duchess. His eldest son is a marquis as
+long as his father lives, on whose demise the marquis becomes a duke.
+The wife of a marquis is a marchioness. There are a few marquises whose
+fathers were not dukes. The younger sons are termed Lord Henry, Lord
+Charles, Lord John, &c. The daughters Lady Caroline, Lady Augusta, Lady
+Julia. The family name is generally quite different from the title.
+Thus, the name of the Duke of Richmond is Lenox--that of the Duke of
+Rutland, Manners. The family name of the Duke of Norfolk (who ranks
+first of the English nobility) is Howard. The present Duke of
+Northumberland's name is Algernon Percy. Arthur Wellesley was that of
+the great Duke of Wellington. His eldest son was Marquis of Douro, and
+his second son Lord Charles Wellesley. The children of a marquis are
+called Lord Frederick, or Lord Henry, and Lady Louisa, or Lady Harriet.
+
+The next title is viscount, as Viscount Palmerston. The next is earl,
+whose wife is a countess, and the children may be Lord Georges and Lady
+Marys.
+
+After the viscounts come the barons, whose children are denominated the
+Honourable Miss, or Mr. John Singleton Copley, (whose father was Copley,
+the celebrated American painter,) is now Baron Lyndhurst. His eldest
+daughter is the Hon. Miss Copley. In common parlance, barons are always
+termed lords. Some few have two titles--as Lord Say and Sele--Lord
+Brougham and Vaux. After William the Fourth had suddenly dissolved the
+parliament that held out so long against passing the reform bill, and
+the king, appointing a new cabinet, had placed Lord Brougham at the head
+of the ministry, a ridiculous comic song came out at one of the minor
+theatres, implying that now his majesty has swept out the whole
+parliament, "he takes up his broom and valks," (Brougham and Vaux.)
+
+When the widow of a nobleman marries a man who has no title, she always
+retains hers. Thus when the widow of the Earl of Mansfield married
+Colonel Greville, (a nephew of the Earl of Warwick,)--on their
+door-plate the names were--"The Countess Dowager of Mansfield, and the
+Hon. Colonel Greville,"--a rather long inscription. A nobleman's
+daughter marrying a commoner, retains her original title of Lady, but
+takes his surname--thus, Lady Charlotte Campbell, whose father was Duke
+of Argyle, became, on her marriage with Dr. Bury, a clergyman, Lady
+Charlotte Bury. It will be understood that if a nobleman's daughter
+marries a nobleman, her title merges in his--but if she marries a
+commoner, she retains what title she had originally--her husband, of
+course, obtaining no rank by his marriage.
+
+The title of a baronet is Sir--as Sir Francis Burdett, Sir Walter Scott.
+His children are Mr. and Miss, without any "Hon." affixed to their
+names. Baronets are a grade below barons, but the title is hereditary,
+descending to the eldest son or next male heir. In directing to a
+baronet, put "Bart." after his name. A knight is also called Sir, as Sir
+Thomas Lawrence, Sir Edwin Landseer, &c.; but his title being only for
+life, dies with him.[5] It is always conferred by the sovereign touching
+his shoulder with a sword, and saying, for instance, "Rise up, Sir
+Francis Chantry." In writing to a knight, put "Knt." The wives of both
+baronets and knights are called Lady. The wife of Sir John Franklin (who
+was knighted) is Lady Franklin--not Lady _Jane_ Franklin, as has been
+erroneously supposed. She could not be Lady Jane unless her father was a
+nobleman.
+
+A nobleman always signs his title only, without designating his exact
+rank--the Duke of Athol signing himself "Athol"--the Duke of Bedford,
+"Bedford"--the Marquis of Granby, "Granby"--the Earl of Chesterfield,
+"Chesterfield," &c. The wives of peers give their Christian name with
+their title--as Isabella Buccleuch--Margaret Northampton--Elizabeth
+Derby, &c.
+
+The English bishops are addressed in letters as the Lord Bishop of
+Rochester, the Lord Bishop of Bath and Wells. The Archbishop of
+Canterbury, who is Primate of England,--(Head of the English Church,) is
+called His Grace, or Your Grace. The bishops are all (by virtue of their
+office) members of the House of Peers or Lords. They sign their
+Christian name with the title of their bishopric, as John
+Durham--William Oxford.
+
+All full noblemen have an hereditary seat in the House of Peers, which
+they take on attaining the age of twenty-one, and it continues while
+they live. Their younger sons, the Lord Johns and Lord Fredericks, can
+only have a seat in the House of Commons, and to that they must be
+elected, like the other members. Baronets, not being peers, must also be
+elected as commons.
+
+Americans going to England would do well to look over a book of the
+British Peerage, so as to save themselves from making blunders, which
+are much ridiculed in a country where little allowance is made for
+republican habits and for republican ignorance of what appertains to
+monarchical institutions.[6] It would not be amiss even to know that a
+full coat of arms, including shield, supporters, crest, and scroll with
+a motto, belongs only to the chief of a noble family; and that the
+younger branches are entitled only to the crest, which is the head of
+the same animal that stands erect on each side of the shield as if to
+support it, such as stags, foxes, bears, vultures, &c. A baronet has a
+shield only, with a bloody or wounded hand over the top.
+
+Our countrymen abroad sometimes excite ill-concealed mirth, by the
+lavish use they make of titles when they chance to find themselves among
+the nobility. They should learn that none but servants or people of the
+lower classes make constant use of the terms "my lord," and "my
+lady"--"your lordship," or "your ladyship"--"your grace," &c., in
+conversing with persons of rank. Formerly it was the custom, but it is
+long since obsolete, except, as we have said, from domestics or
+dependants. Address them simply as Lord Derby, or Lord Dunmore--Lady
+Wilton, Lady Mornington, &c.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[4] It is well to present a lady or gentleman from another city, as
+"Miss Ford of New York"--"Mrs. Stephens of Boston"--"Mr. Warren of New
+Orleans."
+
+[5] Distinguished men of all professions, doctors, lawyers, artists,
+authors, and officers of the army and navy, frequently receive the
+honour of knighthood.
+
+[6] It would be well if all the public offices at Washington were
+furnished with copies of the British Peerage. Perhaps they are.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+CONDUCT IN THE STREET.
+
+
+When three ladies are walking together, it is better for one to keep a
+little in advance of the other two, than for all three to persist in
+maintaining one unbroken line. They cannot all join in conversation
+without talking across each other--a thing that, in-doors or
+out-of-doors, is awkward, inconvenient, ungenteel, and should always be
+avoided. Also, three ladies walking abreast occupy too much of the
+pavement, and therefore incommode the other passengers. Three young
+_men_ sometimes lounge along the pavement, arm in arm. Three young
+_gentlemen_ never do so.
+
+If you meet a lady with whom you have become but slightly acquainted,
+and had merely a little conversation, (for instance, at a party or a
+morning visit,) and who moves in a circle somewhat higher or more
+fashionable than your own, it is safest to wait till she recognises you.
+Let her not see in you a disposition to obtrude yourself on her notice.
+
+It is not expected that all intimacies formed at watering-places shall
+continue after the parties have returned to their homes. A mutual bow
+when meeting in the street is sufficient. But there is no interchanging
+of visits, unless both ladies have, before parting, testified a desire
+to continue the acquaintance. In this case, the lady who is eldest, or
+palpably highest in station, makes the first call. It is not customary
+for a young lady to make the first visit to a married lady.
+
+When meeting them in the street, always speak first to your milliner,
+mantua-maker, seamstress, or to any one you have been in the practice of
+employing. To pass without notice any servant that you know, is rude and
+unfeeling, as they will attribute it to pride, not presuming to speak to
+you themselves, unless in reply. There are persons who having accepted,
+when in the country, much kindness from the country-people, are ashamed
+to recognise them when they come to town, on account of their rustic or
+unfashionable dress. This is a very vulgar, contemptible, and foolish
+pride; and is always seen through, and despised. There is no danger of
+plain country-people being mistaken for vulgar city-people. In our
+country, there is no reason for keeping aloof from any who are
+respectable in character and appearance. Those to be avoided are such as
+wear tawdry finery, paint their faces, and leer out of the corners of
+their eyes, _looking_ disreputably, even if they are not disreputable
+in reality.
+
+When a gentleman meets a lady with whom his acquaintance is very slight,
+(perhaps nothing more than a few words of talk at a party,) he allows
+her the option of continuing the acquaintance or not, at her pleasure;
+therefore, he waits till she recognises him, and till she evinces it by
+a bow,--he looking at her to give the opportunity. Thus, if she has no
+objection to numbering him among her acquaintances, she denotes it by
+bowing first. American ladies never curtsey in the street. If she has
+any reason to disapprove of his character or habits, she is perfectly
+justifiable in "cutting" him, as it is termed. Let her bow very coldly
+the first time, and after that, not at all.
+
+Young ladies should yield the wall to old ladies. Gentlemen do so to all
+ladies.
+
+In some cities it is the custom for all gentlemen to give their arm to
+all ladies, when walking with them. In others, a gentleman's arm is
+neither offered nor taken, unless in the evening, on slippery pavements,
+or when the streets are very muddy. A lady only takes the arm of her
+husband, her affianced lover, or of her male relatives. In the country
+the custom is different. There, a gentleman, when walking with a lady,
+always gives her his arm; and is much offended when, on offering his
+arm, the lady refuses to take it. Still, if it is contrary to the custom
+of her place, she can explain it to him delicately, and he will at once
+see the propriety of her declining.
+
+When a lady is walking between two gentlemen, she should divide her
+conversation as equally as practicable, or address most of it to him who
+is most of a stranger to her. He, with whom she is least on ceremony,
+will excuse her.
+
+A gentleman on escorting a lady to her own home, must not leave her till
+he has rung the bell, and waited till the servant has come and opened
+the door, and till she is actually in the house. Men who know no better,
+think it sufficient to walk with her to the foot of the steps and there
+take their departure, leaving her to get in as she can. This we have
+seen--but not often, and the offenders were not Americans.
+
+If you stop a few minutes in the street to talk to an acquaintance, draw
+to one side of the pavement near the wall, so as not to impede the
+passengers--or you may turn and walk with her as far as the next corner.
+And never stop to talk in the middle of a crossing. To speak loudly in
+the street is exceedingly ungenteel, and foolish, as what you say will
+be heard by all who pass by. To call across the way to an acquaintance,
+is very unlady-like. It is best to hasten over, and speak to her, if you
+have any thing of importance to say.
+
+When a stranger offers to assist you across a brimming gutter, or over a
+puddle, or a glair of slippery ice, do not hesitate, or decline, as if
+you thought he was taking an unwarrantable liberty. He means nothing but
+civility. So accept it frankly, and thank him for it.
+
+When you see persons slip down on the ice, do not laugh at them. There
+is no fun in being hurt, or in being mortified by a fall in the public
+street; and we know not how a _lady_ can see any thing diverting in so
+painful a circumstance. It is more feminine, on witnessing such a sight,
+to utter an involuntary scream than a shout of laughter. And still more
+so, to stop and ascertain if the person that fell has been hurt.
+
+If, on stopping an omnibus, you find that a dozen people are already
+seated in it, draw back, and refuse to add to the number; giving no heed
+to the assertion of the driver, that "there is plenty of room." The
+_passengers_ will not say so, and you have no right to crowd them all,
+even if you are willing to be crowded yourself--a thing that is
+extremely uncomfortable, and very injurious to your dress, which may, in
+consequence, be so squeezed and rumpled as never to look well again.
+None of the omnibuses are large enough to accommodate even twelve grown
+people _comfortably_; and that number is the utmost the law permits. A
+child occupies more than half the space of a grown person, yet children
+are brought into omnibuses _ad libitum_. Ten grown persons are as many
+as can be really well seated in an omnibus--twelve are too many; and a
+_lady_ will always regret making the thirteenth--and her want of
+consideration in doing so will cause her to be regarded with
+unfavourable eyes by the other passengers. It is better for her to go
+into a shop, and wait for the next omnibus, or even to walk home, unless
+it is actually raining.
+
+Have your sixpence ready in your fingers a few minutes before you are to
+get out; and you may request any gentleman near you to hand it up to
+the driver. So many accidents have happened from the driver setting off
+before a lady was entirely out of the vehicle and safely landed in the
+street, that it is well to desire the gentleman not to hand up the
+sixpence till after you are fairly clear of the steps.
+
+When expecting to ride in an omnibus, take care to have sufficient small
+change in your purse--that is, sixpences. We have seen, when a
+quarter-dollar has been handed up, and the driver was handing down the
+change, that it has fallen, and been scattered among the straw. There
+was no stopping to search for it, and therefore the ride cost
+twenty-five cents instead of six: the driver, of course, finding the
+change himself, as soon as he got rid of all his passengers.
+
+It is most imprudent to ride in an omnibus with much money in your
+purse. Pickpockets of genteel appearance are too frequently among the
+passengers. We know a gentleman who in this way lost a pocket-book
+containing eighty dollars; and various ladies have had their purses
+taken from them, by well-dressed passengers. If you are obliged to have
+money of any consequence about you, keep your hand all the time in that
+pocket.
+
+If the driver allows a drunken man to come into an omnibus, the ladies
+will find it best to get out; at least those whose seats are near his.
+It is, however, the duty of the gentlemen to insist on such fellows
+being refused admittance where there are ladies.
+
+No lady should venture to ride in an omnibus after dark, unless she is
+escorted by a gentleman whom she knows. She had better walk home, even
+under the protection of a servant. If alone in an omnibus at night, she
+is liable to meet with improper company, and perhaps be insulted.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+SHOPPING.
+
+
+When you go out shopping, it is well to take with you some _written_
+cards, inscribed with your residence as well as your name. For this
+purpose to use engraved visiting-cards is an unnecessary expense. That
+there may be no mistake, let your shopping-cards contain not only your
+street and number, but the side of the way, and between what streets
+your house is situated. This minuteness is particularly useful in
+Philadelphia, where the plan and aspect of the streets is so similar.
+Much inconvenience, disappointment, and delay have resulted from parcels
+being left at wrong places. If you are staying at a hotel, give also the
+number of your chamber, otherwise the package may be carried in mistake
+to the apartment of some other lady; the servants always knowing the
+number of the rooms, but not always remembering the names of the
+occupants; usually speaking of the ladies and gentlemen as No. 25, No.
+42, &c.
+
+There is another advantage in having cards with you when you go out
+shopping: if you should chance to forget your reticule, or
+handkerchief, and leave it on the counter, the shopkeeper will know
+exactly by the card where to send it, or for whom to keep it till called
+for.
+
+If you intend to purchase none but small articles, take but little money
+in your purse, so that if you chance to lose it, the loss may not be
+great.[7] When you buy articles of any consequence, they will always be
+sent home at your request--and (unless you keep a standing account at
+that store) desire the bill to be sent along; and sent at an hour when
+you will certainly be at hand to pay it. Be careful to take receipts for
+the payment; and keep the receipts on a file or wire. We have known
+instances when, from the clerk or storekeeper neglecting or delaying to
+cross out an account as soon as paid, the same bill was inadvertently
+sent twice over; and then by having the receipt to show, the necessity
+of _paying it twice over_ was obviated. Look carefully at every item of
+the bill, and see that all is correct. Sometimes (though these
+oversights are of rare occurrence) the same article may accidentally be
+set down twice in the same bill. But this is easily rectified by taking
+the bill to the storekeeper, and showing it to him.
+
+In subscribing for a magazine or newspaper, and paying in advance, (as
+you always should,) be especially careful of the receipts given to you
+at paying. So many persons are in the habit of allowing these accounts
+to run on for years, that if you neglect preserving your receipts, and
+cannot produce them afterward, you may be unintentionally classed among
+the delinquents, and have no means of proving satisfactorily that you
+have really paid.
+
+Many ladies keep a day-book, in which they set down, regularly, all the
+money they have expended on that day; adding up the whole every week. An
+excellent plan, and of great importance to every one who is mistress of
+a family.
+
+In making purchases for other persons, have bills made out; and send the
+bills (receipted) with the articles purchased, as an evidence of the
+exact price of the things, and that they were paid for punctually. The
+friends that have commissioned you to buy them, should _immediately_
+repay you. Much inconvenience may be felt by a lady whose command of
+money is small, when a friend living in a distant place, and probably in
+opulent circumstances, neglects or postpones the payment of these sums.
+She should, at the beginning, send money amply sufficient to make these
+purchases. It is enough that you take the trouble of going to the
+stores, selecting the desired articles, and having them packed and sent
+off. She has no right to put you to the slightest pecuniary
+inconvenience. There have been instances, where articles thus bought for
+a lady in a far-off place, have not been paid for by that lady till
+after the lapse of many months. For such remissness there is no excuse.
+To go shopping for a friend is rarely a pleasant business. Besides its
+encroaching on your time, there is always a danger of the purchases
+proving unsatisfactory, or not suiting the taste of her for whom they
+are intended. Also, circumstances may prevent the articles reaching her
+as soon as expected. Whenever practicable, it is best to send all such
+packages by the Transportation Line--that charge to be paid by the
+owner, on delivery.
+
+It is not well to trouble a gentleman with the care of a parcel, unless
+it is quite small, and he has to pass the door of the house at which it
+is to be delivered; or unless his residence is in the immediate
+neighbourhood.
+
+When visiting the shops, if you do not intend to buy at that time, but
+are merely looking round to see varieties of articles before you
+determine on what to purchase, candidly say so to the persons standing
+at the counter. They will (particularly if they know you) be perfectly
+willing to show you such things as you desire to see, in the hope that
+you may return to their store and buy of them afterward. At the same
+time, avoid giving unnecessary trouble; and do not, from mere curiosity,
+desire such things to be brought to you as you have no intention of
+buying at all.
+
+The practice that is called cheapening, or beating down the price, is
+now nearly obsolete. Most tradesmen have a fixed price for every thing,
+and will not abate.
+
+It is but rarely that you will meet with articles of really good quality
+on very low terms, unless near the close of the season, when the
+storekeepers, anxious to get rid of their old stock, generally put down
+the prices of the goods that are left on hand; knowing that by the
+return of next season, these will be superseded by things of a newer
+fashion. Economical ladies, who are not resolutely determined on wearing
+none but articles of the very latest fashion, may thus supply themselves
+with excellent silks, lawns, &c. in August and September, at prices far
+below what they would have given in May or June. And then they can lay
+them by till next summer. In the same way they can purchase merinoes,
+mousselines de laine, &c. in January, February, and March, much lower
+than in November and December. It is best always to buy rather too much
+than too little; and to have a piece left, rather than to get a scanty
+pattern, such as will barely hold out, leaving nothing for repairs or
+alterations. There is much advantage in getting an extra yard and a
+half, or two yards, and keeping it back for new sleeves. Unless you are
+small and slender, it is not well to buy a dress embroidered with a
+border pattern. They are always scanty in width, and have that look when
+made up. The skirts are never quite wide enough. A tall woman requires
+as full a skirt as a fat one; else her height will make her look lanky
+and narrow.
+
+When bespeaking an article to be made purposely for you, ascertain from
+the maker what will be the cost, and then request him to write down the
+terms on a card, or a slip of paper, or on a leaf of your tablet. If he
+says he cannot tell how much it will be, or that he knows not what price
+to fix on it, or that he cannot decide till after it is finished, it
+will be safest and wisest for you to decline engaging it, till he _has_
+calculated the amount, or something very near it. Persist in this
+condition being a _sine qua non_. It is his place to know every thing
+connected with his business, and to be able to judge of his outlay, and
+his profits. If you do not insist on a satisfactory answer when making
+the bargain, you may in the end find yourself greatly overcharged, (as
+we know by experience;) the price in the bill, after the article is
+made, and sent home, proving infinitely higher than you would have been
+willing to give if previously aware of it. In dealing with foreigners
+whose language is not yours, take especial care that there is a correct
+understanding on both sides.
+
+When on a visit to a city with which you are not familiar, enquire where
+the best shops are to be found, and make memorandums of them in your
+tablets. This will spare your friends the trouble of accompanying you on
+your shopping expeditions. And if you have a small pocket-map of the
+town, there will be no danger of losing your way. Except to ladies whose
+chief delight is in seeing things connected with dress, to go shopping
+with a stranger is usually very tiresome. Also, the stranger will feel
+less constraint by going alone; and more at liberty to be guided by her
+own taste in selecting, and to consult her pecuniary convenience in
+regard to the price. It is only when you feel that you have reason for
+distrusting your own judgment, as to the quality and gentility of the
+articles, that it is well to be accompanied by a person of more
+experience. And then you will, most probably, be unwilling to fatigue
+her by going to as many shops as you would like to visit. In most cases,
+it is best to go shopping without any companion, except, perhaps, a
+member of your immediate family. Gentlemen consider it a very irksome
+task to go on shopping expeditions, and their ill-concealed impatience
+becomes equally irksome to you.
+
+If you have given the salesman or saleswoman unusual trouble in showing
+you articles which you find not to suit, make some compensation, by at
+least one or two small purchases before leaving the store; for instance,
+linen to lay by as a body-lining for a future dress, gloves, mits, a
+neck-ribbon, cotton spools, pins, needles, tape, black sewing-silk,
+&c.,--things that will always come into use.
+
+Remember that in all American stores, the rule of "first come, first
+served," is rigidly observed. Therefore, testify no impatience if a
+servant-girl, making a sixpenny purchase, is served before you--which
+she certainly will be, if her entrance has preceded yours.
+
+There are still some ladies who think that one of the great arts of
+shopping, is to disparage the articles shown to them, to exclaim at the
+price, and to assert that at other places they can get exactly such
+things infinitely lower. When shopping, (as well as under all other
+circumstances,) it is best to adhere to the truth. If you really like
+the article, why not gratify the salesman by saying so. If you know that
+the price is in conformity to the usual rate, you need not attempt to
+get it lower, for you will seldom succeed--unless, indeed, on that day
+the tradesman is particularly anxious to sell, having a sum of money to
+make up, and being somewhat at a loss. Perhaps then, he may abate
+something; but if he does not himself propose the abatement, and if he
+is largely in business, and sure of plenty of custom, there will be
+little use in your urging it.
+
+If you are a stranger in the city, (Philadelphia for instance,) do not
+always be exclaiming at the prices, and declaring that you can buy the
+same articles much lower and much handsomer in New York, Boston, or
+Baltimore. For certain reasons, prices are different in different
+places. If an article is shown to you in Philadelphia as "something
+quite new," refrain from saying that it has been out of fashion these
+two years in New York. This may injure its sale with bystanders,
+chancing to hear you. You need only say "that it is very pretty, but you
+do not want it now."
+
+It is strange, but no less strange than true, that though the distance
+between New York and Philadelphia is reduced to less than half a day's
+travel, it takes a year or more, for the New York fashions to get to
+Philadelphia, and many of them never arrive at all. There are certain
+dress-makers and milliners in the latter city, who, if you show them any
+thing quite fresh from New York, will habitually reply, "Oh! we made
+that, here in Philadelphia, a year or two ago." You need not believe
+them. Our American ladies derive all their ideas of costume from France;
+and as New York rejoices in the most extensive and the most speedy
+intercourse with that land of taste and elegance, the French fashions
+always get there first. The wonder is that so long a time elapses
+before they prevail in the other cities. We must say, however, that
+whatever is fantastic and extreme, is generally modified and softened
+down in Philadelphia. In provincial towns, and in remote new
+settlements, we often see a disposition to carry to the utmost a fashion
+already too showy or gaudy.
+
+When you see on another lady a new article of dress that you admire, it
+is _not_ ill-manners, (but rather the contrary,) to tell her so. But
+unless you really desire to get one exactly like it for yourself, and
+are sincerely asking for information, it is considered very rude to
+enquire where she bought it, and what was the cost. And it is peculiarly
+vulgar to preface the enquiry by the foolish words--"If it is a fair
+question." The very doubt proves that you know the question to be a very
+unfair one. And so it is. We have never known that expression used
+except to introduce something rude and improper. Any lady who is asked
+an impertinent question, would be perfectly justifiable in saying,
+"Excuse me from answering"--and then immediately changing the
+conversation. Yet there are ladies who are always catechising others
+about their dress. You are not bound to give explicit answers to these,
+or any other questions concerning your personal affairs. Much mischief
+accrues in society, from some ladies being too inquisitive, and others
+too communicative.
+
+It is really a great fatigue, both of body and mind, to go shopping with
+a very close economist, particularly if you know that she can well
+afford a sufficiently liberal expenditure. The length of time she will
+ponder over every thing before she can "make up her mind;" the
+ever-besetting fear that she may possibly have to give a few cents more
+in one store than in another; her long deliberation as to whether a
+smaller than the usual quantity may not be "made to do;" her
+predilection for bargain-seeking in streets far off, and ungenteel; the
+immense trouble she gives to the persons behind the counter,--all will
+induce you to forswear trying a second time the experiment of attending
+on the progress of a shopper who sets out with the vain expectation of
+obtaining good articles at paltry prices.
+
+In what are called "cheap shops," you will rarely find more than two or
+three things that are really cheap. If of bad quality, they are not
+_cheap_, but dear. Low-priced ribbons, for instance, are generally
+flimsy, tawdry, of ugly figures, and vulgar colours,--soon fading, and
+soon "getting into a string." Yet there are ladies who will walk two
+miles to hustle in the crowd they find squeezing toward the counter of
+the last new emporium of cheap ribbons; and, while waiting their turn,
+have nothing to look at around them but lots of trash, that if they
+bought they would be ashamed to wear. Coarse finery is trumpery.
+
+On the other hand, for ladies of small means, it is not indispensable to
+their standing in society, that they should deal only at stores noted
+for selling _higher_ than the usual price. It is a very poor boast;
+particularly when they cannot afford it.
+
+Whatever may be the caprices of fashion, a lady of good taste (and we
+may add, good sense,) will not, in buying dresses, select those of
+large figures, and high glaring colours. There is something peculiarly
+ungenteel and ungraceful in a white ground with large red flowers and
+green leaves wandering over it. Even if the fabric is brocade, it has a
+look of calico. Red and green is only beautiful in real flowers. In a
+lady's dress, it somehow looks unlady-like. A great variety of bright
+colours is only suited to a carpet. For a dress, two are quite
+sufficient. And then if one is blue, pink, scarlet, or orange, let it be
+contrasted with brown, gray, olive, or some chaste and quiet tint that
+will set it off. Few silks are more becoming than those in which the
+figure is formed by a darker shade of the same colour as the ground.
+Silks of one colour only, trim the best--variegated trimming looks
+confused and ineffective. No colours are more ungenteel, or in worse
+taste, than reddish lilacs, reddish purples, and reddish browns. The
+original tint of aronetta, or anatto, is the contempt of ladies; but by
+previously washing the article in strong, warm pot-ash water, before it
+is put into the solution of aronetta, you will obtain a beautiful
+bird-of-paradise colour, entirely free from all appearance of the
+unpopular powder.
+
+Buy no silk that is stiff and hard, however thick and heavy it may seem.
+It will crack and split, and wear worse than a soft silk that appears
+much thinner. Venture on no satin that is not of excellent quality. A
+thin satin frays and ravels, and is not worth making up. For common
+wear, a soft, thick India silk is generally excellent. We have never
+seen a _good one_ for less than a dollar a yard. The figured or
+embossed India silks are not worth buying,--wearing rough and fuzzy, and
+fraying all over. For a serviceable, long-lasting home dress, there is
+nothing equal to a very thick, soft, double-width India black satin,
+such as is called two yards wide, and sells at two dollars a yard. But
+they have become very scarce. Never use satin to cover cord. It ravels
+too much. Velvet and satin should be corded with substantial silk. If
+you cannot match the exact shade, let it be darker rather than lighter.
+A belt-ribbon should always be darker than the dress. Cord merino with
+itself. A cording of silk will not wash.
+
+If you cannot get lace that is tolerably fine, wear none at all, rather
+than have it coarse. We have seen lace called Brussels, so coarse that
+it looked as if made of cotton, though in truth it was of thread. There
+was no real beauty in it. Genuine Brussels lace is exquisitely fine.
+
+Large showy ornaments, by way of jewellery, are exceedingly ungenteel.
+They always tell their own story, of glass stones set in gilding, not
+gold. If you cannot obtain real jewels, never attempt sham ones. It
+requires no practised eye to detect them--particularly false diamonds.
+
+Do not interfere with the shopping of other customers, (who may chance
+to stand near you at the counter,) by either praising or deprecating any
+of the articles they are looking at. Leave them to the exercise of their
+own judgment; unless they ask your opinion. And then give it in a low
+voice, and sincerely.
+
+If you meet an acquaintance unexpectedly in a store, it is not well to
+engage in a long conversation with her, and thus detain persons behind
+the counter from waiting on other customers. Finish your purchase-making
+first, and then you will have leisure to step aside and converse. A
+store is not the place for social intercourse, and you may chance to say
+something there, that bystanders should not hear. "Greetings in the
+market-place" should always be short.
+
+It is not admissible to try on kid gloves in a store. After buying a
+pair, ask for the glove-stretcher, (which they keep in all good shops,
+for the convenience of customers,) and then stretch the gloves upon it,
+unless you have a glove-stretcher at home. This will render them easy to
+put on when you take them into wear. Glove-stretchers are to be bought
+at the variety stores; or ought to be. They will save many a new glove
+from tearing.
+
+In buying stockings, whether silk or cotton, you will find it cheapest
+in the end, to get those of the best _English_ manufacture, particularly
+those of fine quality. For winter, and to wear with boots, English
+stockings of unbleached cotton are very comfortable, feeling warmer than
+those that are perfectly white. It is to be lamented that all black
+stockings (even of silk) are painful and injurious to the feet, the
+copperas dye being poisonous.
+
+In buying black mits, see that they are _really of silk_, otherwise they
+will stain your hands, and look brown and foxy. Much cotton is now
+substituted for silk; a way having been discovered of carding silk and
+cotton together, before the thread is spun. Linen also, is shamefully
+adulterated with cotton, and it is difficult for purchasers to discover
+the cheat before the article is washed. Linen is frequently injured in
+the piece by bad bleaching-salts; so that after the first washing, it
+drops into holes, such as are caused by vitriol. Of this we have had sad
+experience in several instances, when the linen was supposed to be of
+the best quality.
+
+Always object to a parcel being put up in newspaper--as the printing-ink
+will rub off, and soil the article enclosed. If it is a little thing
+that you are going to take home in your own hand, it will smear your
+gloves. All shopkeepers in good business can afford to buy proper
+wrapping-paper, and they generally do so. It is very cheap. See also
+that they do not wrap your purchase in so small a bit of paper as to
+squeeze and crush it.
+
+If you go out with much money, (which is never advisable,) divide it
+into two portions, putting part in your pocket-book or porte-monnaie,
+and the remainder into your purse, so that if you lose it, or have your
+pocket picked, the loss may be less. Do not carry notes in your purse,
+but keep them in your pocket-book. Little gold dollars had best go into
+your porte-monnaie. If kept in your purse with small change, you will be
+very likely to lose them, or to mistake them for three-cent pieces if
+the light is bad.
+
+Once, on embarking in a New York steamboat, we saw a gentleman having
+bought a penny paper, give the news-boy a gold eagle in mistake for a
+cent. The gentleman was instantly apprized of his error by a bystander,
+who had seen it; but the boy had already sprung upon the wharf and was
+lost in the crowd.
+
+We knew an instance of a lady in New York giving a hundred-dollar note
+to a strawberry woman, instead of a note of one dollar. Neither note nor
+woman were seen or heard of more.
+
+In getting change see that three-cent pieces are not given to you for
+five cents.
+
+And now a few words to saleswomen. They have always, when commencing
+that vocation, two important qualities to cultivate (exclusive of
+cleverness in business)--civility, and patience. In these two
+requisites, few of our American young women are deficient. Let them also
+learn activity in moving, and quickness in recollecting where all the
+articles called for are to be found, so as not to keep the customers
+waiting too long, while they, the sellers, are searching the shelves and
+boxes. Also, if a lady wishes to match something, (for instance, a piece
+of silk,) it is foolish and useless to bring her a piece that is not
+_exactly_ like; trying to persuade her to take it, and calling it "as
+good a match as she is likely to get." Of course she will _not_ take a
+piece that is only _tolerably_ like, but not quite the same; for unless
+it matches exactly, it is no match at all. If a customer enquires for
+light blue ribbon it is absurd to bring her dark blue, saying "we have
+no light blue"--or to say "we have no pink, but we have scarlet--we have
+no lilac, but we have purple." Or still worse, to try to persuade the
+customer that deep crimson is a beautiful shade of scarlet; or worse
+than all, that those very unbecoming tints, called improperly rose-white
+and pearl-white, are really a pure dead white; when you know very well
+that they are no such thing. Both white and black are very difficult to
+match _precisely_.
+
+Let the yard-measure be visible to the customers. In some shops the
+measure is at the back of the counter, hidden behind a glass case. This
+practice of measuring out of sight, sometimes gives rise to a suspicion
+that the measure is not true, as it is so easy to deceive where the
+brass nails that mark it are concealed from view of the customers.
+
+Every female who keeps, or attends in a store, should discourage the
+visits of her friends at business hours. If she looks off to chat with
+her shop-visiters, she cannot attend properly to her customers; and
+those visiters may be inconsiderate and obtrusive enough to interfere,
+by putting in their word, and praising the beauty or cheapness of the
+articles, by way of promoting the interest of the seller, which it
+ultimately _will not_.
+
+Show as much civility and attention to a customer plainly dressed, and
+walking on foot, or getting out of an omnibus, as you would to a lady
+elegantly attired, and coming in her own carriage. The former may prove
+the most profitable customer. Be careful to exhibit no temper, even if
+you have had the trouble of showing a variety of goods to one who goes
+away without buying any thing. Another time, perhaps, she may come and
+make large purchases: but if you offend her, she will assuredly never
+enter the store again. Recollect that no one feels under the least
+compulsion to buy what does not suit them. You would not yourself.
+Habitual courtesy is a valuable qualification, and always turns to good
+account.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[7] When circumstances render it expedient to carry much money out with
+you, divide it; putting half in one purse or pocket-book, and half in
+another, and put these portions into two pockets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+PLACES OF AMUSEMENT.
+
+
+It would be well in _all_ places of public amusement, if there could be
+an apartment appropriated to the ladies, in which they might deposit
+their cloaks, hoods, &c. in charge of a responsible attendant; her care
+to be rewarded by a small gratuity. Ladies would then be under no
+necessity of carrying warm outer-garments into a crowded and heated
+room; or of wearing their bonnets, and thereby intercepting the view of
+persons seated behind them; always a grievance where the benches are not
+sufficiently elevated, or where there is no difference at all in their
+respective elevation, as is sometimes the case. Also, the appearance of
+the female part of the company is always more elegant, when wearing
+bandeaus, caps, or other light head-dresses; young persons requiring
+their hair only, or the slight decoration of a flower or a ribbon. It is
+very painful and fatiguing to be for several hours continually dodging
+your head from side to side, and stretching your neck this way and that,
+and peeping wherever you can obtain a tantalizing glimpse between the
+bonnets of ladies seated immediately before you. This, in addition to
+the annoyance of being squeezed on a bench that is over-full, is enough
+to destroy nearly all the pleasure of the exhibition; and to make a
+large portion of the audience regret that they came.
+
+If you wish to secure a good seat, go early. It is better to sit there
+an hour before the commencement of the performance, than to arrive after
+it has begun. The time of waiting will soon pass away, in conversation
+with the friends whom you have accompanied.
+
+When invited to join a party to a place of amusement, begin to prepare
+in ample time; so as not to keep them waiting for you. When a _large_
+party is going to a place of amusement, (for instance, the theatre, or
+opera,) it is better that each family should go thither from their own
+home, (being provided with their own tickets,) than that they should all
+rendezvous at the house of one of the company; at the risk of keeping
+the whole party waiting, perhaps for the very youngest members of it.
+When a box has been taken, let the tickets be sent to all the persons
+who are to have seats in it, and not retained by the taker of the box
+till the whole party has assembled at the door of the theatre. If the
+tickets are thus distributed, the persons from each house can go when
+they please, without compelling any of the party to wait for them.
+
+Still, to make an entrance after the performance has begun, is (or ought
+to be) very embarrassing to ladies. It excites the attention of all
+around, diverting that attention from the performance; and there is
+always, when the house is full, and the hour late, some delay and
+difficulty in reaching the seats, even when the seats have been secured.
+
+If it is a concert, where places cannot be previously engaged, there
+are, of course, additional reasons for going in due time; and the most
+sensible and best-behaved part of the audience always endeavour to do
+so. But if you are unavoidably late, be satisfied to pay the penalty, by
+quietly taking back-seats, if no others are vacant. We have seen young
+ladies not arriving till after the entertainment had commenced, march
+boldly up to the front benches, and stand there looking steadfastly in
+the faces of gentlemen who with their parties had earned good seats by
+coming soon after the doors were opened. The ladies persevering in this
+determined stare, till they succeeded in dislodging these unfortunate
+gentlemen, and compelling them to quit their seats, to leave the ladies
+who belonged to them, and to stand for the remainder of the evening,
+perhaps in a distant part of the room. American _men_ are noted,
+everywhere, for their politeness to females. We wish we could say the
+same of the politeness of our fair countrywomen in return. Yet
+frequently they will avail themselves of these civilities from
+strangers, without rewarding them with a word of thanks, or even a bow
+of acknowledgment.
+
+English tourists remark (and with truth) that there is no position in
+which American ladies appear to such disadvantage as when crowding the
+galleries of our legislative assemblies; ejecting gentlemen to whom it
+is of importance to hear the debates; and still worse, intruding upon
+the floor of the senate-chamber, and compelling the senators to
+relinquish their places, and find others where they can, or else to
+stand all the time. And among these ladies, there may be very few who
+are really capable of enjoying or appreciating the eloquence of our
+distinguished orators, or of entering understandingly into the merits of
+the question. Often these damsels are whispering half the time about
+some nonsense of their own; and often, as is surmised, the chief object
+of the ladies whose visits to the capitol are most frequent, is the
+chance of a few words of flirtation with some of the most gallant among
+the members; or the possibility of being escorted home by a congressman,
+who has but little to do, or at least who does but little. We think the
+English parliament is right in excluding ladies from their halls, except
+when the queen goes there in state, to open or prorogue the session. Let
+them be satisfied with reading the debates in the newspapers.
+
+We acknowledge that it is very interesting to see and hear the most
+eminent men of our country arranging the affairs of the nation; to
+become acquainted with their personal appearance, and to listen to their
+eloquence. But the privilege should not be abused as it is, by those
+who, after all, listen so badly, or comprehend so badly, that if
+questioned an hour afterward, they could scarcely repeat the purport of
+one single sentence,--nor perhaps even recollect the subject of debate.
+Such instances we have known--and not a few of them either.
+
+To laugh deridingly, or to whisper unfavourable remarks during the
+performance of a concert or a play, is a rudeness of which few American
+ladies are guilty. Still, we occasionally see some of that few, who,
+much to the annoyance of those persons near them who really wish to
+enjoy what they came for, talk audibly in ridicule of the performers;
+the performers being, in all probability, near enough to hear these
+vexatious remarks, and to be disconcerted by them. We heard of a highly
+respectable actress who was so mortified by the unfeeling animadversions
+of some young ladies in a stage-box, that she forgot her part, was
+unable to utter a word, or to restrain her tears, and became so nervous
+that she played badly during the remainder of the piece, and was in
+consequence, severely handled next day by the newspaper critics. This
+was very hard.
+
+Parents before taking their children to the theatre, should first
+ascertain whether the play is such as will amuse or interest them. Small
+children are invariably restless, troublesome, and finally sleepy at a
+performance that affords _them_ no entertainment, and they will be
+better at home. Yet we have seen little girls brought to see the painful
+tragedy of the Gamester--or still worse, the dreary comedy of the
+Stranger. How is it that young ladies are frequently matronized to plays
+that even their mothers cannot witness without blushes?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+TRAVELLING.
+
+
+No lady should set out on a journey unprovided with an oiled-silk bag
+for the reception of tooth-brushes, soap, a hair-brush, and a towel. Let
+the bag be about half a quarter of a yard longer at the back than at the
+front; so as to leave a flap to turn over, and tie down, when all the
+articles are in. It should be square, (exclusive of the flap,) and about
+a quarter and half-quarter in length, and the same in breadth; stitched
+in compartments, something like an old-fashioned thread-case, only that
+the compartments differ much in size. The two smallest are for two
+tooth-brushes. Another should be broad enough to contain a hair-brush.
+For travelling, have a hair-brush with a mirror at the back, and if you
+can get one that has also a dressing-comb attached to it, so much the
+better. The largest compartment (which should occupy the centre) is for
+a towel, and a cake of soap. If you are obliged to start in haste, all
+these things can be put in while wet from recent use, the towel being
+rolled or folded into as small a compass as possible. The oiled silk
+will prevent the wet from oozing through. When all are in, turn over the
+flap at the top, (which should be furnished with two long strings of
+broad, white tape,) and tie it securely down. Carry this bag in the
+square satchel which all ladies now keep in their hands when travelling,
+and which contain such things as they may want during the day,
+precluding the necessity of opening their large carpet-bag, till they
+stop for the night.
+
+In a carpet-bag pack nothing but white articles, or such as can be
+washed, and will not be spoiled by the bag chancing to get wet. Have
+your name engraved on the lock of your carpet-bag, and also on the brass
+plate of your trunks. Besides this, write your full direction on several
+cards, make a small hole in each, and running a string through the hole,
+tie a card to the handle of each trunk, and sew one on the side of your
+carpet-bag--the direction designating the place to which you are going.
+Your name in full should be painted in white letters on every trunk.
+This costs but a trifle, and secures the recognition of your baggage
+when missing. It is also an excellent plan to tie round the handle of
+each trunk or bag, a bit of ribbon--blue, red, or yellow--all the bits
+being off the same piece.[8]
+
+Write on a large card, a list and description of each trunk, box, &c.
+and give the card to the gentleman who escorts you. It will greatly
+assist him in identifying all the articles that comprise your baggage.
+
+Be quite ready at least a quarter of an hour before the time for
+starting. Nelson said he traced all the most fortunate events of his
+life to his practice of being, on every occasion, quite prepared a
+quarter of an hour too early. It is a good rule.
+
+Previous to departing, put into the hand of your escort rather more than
+a sufficient sum for the expenses of your journey, so as to provide for
+all possible contingencies. He will return you the balance when all is
+paid. Having done this, should any person belonging to the line come to
+you for your fare, refer them to the gentleman, (mentioning his name,)
+and take care to pay nothing more yourself.
+
+Dress very plainly when travelling. Few ladies that _are_ ladies wear
+finery in rail-cars, and steamboats--still less in stages--stage-roads
+being usually very dusty. Showy silks, and what are called dress-bonnets
+are preposterous--so are jewellery ornaments, which, if real, you run a
+great risk of losing, and if false, are very ungenteel. Above all, do
+not travel in white kid gloves. Respectable women never do.
+
+The best travelling-dresses are of merino, or alpaca; plain mousseline
+de laine, grey or brown linen; or strong India silk, senshaw for
+instance. In warm weather, gingham is better than printed lawn, which
+rumples and tumbles and "gets into a string" directly. The sleeves wide,
+for if tight to the arm, they will stain with perspiration. Your
+travelling-dress for summer should have a large cape or pelerine of the
+same. Beside which, carry on your arm a large shawl for chilly mornings
+and evenings. No lady should travel in cold weather, without a warm
+cloak, mantilla, or pelisse,--furs, &c. of course--and travelling-boots
+lined with fur or flannel; having also inner soles of lambs-wool,
+varnished on the leather side to make them water-proof. Take with you
+one of those very useful umbrellas, that are large enough to shelter one
+person from the rain, and can also be used as a parasol. Do not pack it
+away in a trunk, for you may want it in the transit from rail-car to
+steamboat. Keep it near you all the time, with your satchel and extra
+shawl. By all means wear a white collar.
+
+If you are fortunately able to ride backward as well as forward, you
+will be less incommoded with flying sparks, by sitting with your back to
+the engine. A spark getting into the eye is very painful, and sometimes
+dangerous. It is possible to expel it by blowing your nose very hard,
+while with the other hand you wipe out the particle of cinder with a
+corner of your handkerchief, pulling down the lower eye-lid. We have
+seen this done successfully. Another way is to wrap the head of a pin in
+the corner of a fine, soft cambric handkerchief, and placing it beneath
+the lid, sweep all round the eye with it. If this does not succeed, get
+out at the first station-house where you can stop long enough, procure a
+bristle-hair from a sweeping-brush, tie it in a loop or bow with a bit
+of thread, and let some one insert it beneath your eye-lid, and move it
+slowly all round, so as to catch in it the offending particle of coal,
+and bring it out. Or if there is time, send to the nearest apothecary
+for an eye-stone, (in reality, a lobster's eye,) and soak it five
+minutes in a saucer of vinegar and water to give it activity, then,
+wiping it dry, and carefully inserting it beneath the eye-lid, bind a
+handkerchief over it. The eye-stone will go circling round the eye, and
+most likely take up the mote in its course. When the pain ceases, remove
+the handkerchief, and wash the eye with cold water.
+
+To read in a rail-car is very injurious to the eyes, from the quivering,
+tremulous motion it seems to communicate to the letters of the page. It
+is best to abstain from your book till you are transferred to the
+steamboat.
+
+Many persons cannot talk in a rail-car without a painful exertion of the
+voice. And it is not an easy task, even to those whose lungs are strong.
+You can easily excuse yourself from conversing with your escort, by
+telling him that your voice is not loud enough to be heard above the
+racket of the cars, and that though you will gladly listen to _him_, he
+must allow you to listen without replying, except in as few words as
+possible. If he finds a gentleman with whom he is acquainted, desire him
+to talk to his friend, and leave you to hear their conversation as a
+silent auditor.
+
+If you pass the night in a steamboat, and can afford the additional
+expense of a _whole_ state-room, by all means engage one as soon as you
+go on board. The chambermaid will give you the key and the number, and
+you can retire to it whenever you please, and enjoy the luxury of being
+alone, and of washing and dressing without witnesses. If you are
+constrained to take a berth in the ladies' sleeping-cabin, it is not the
+least necessary to retire to it immediately after supper. By doing so
+you will have a very long, tiresome night, and be awake many hours
+before morning. And if you are awake, do not be continually calling upon
+the poor chambermaid, and disturbing her with enquiries, such as "Where
+are we now?" and "How soon shall we arrive?"
+
+The saloon is the place in which ladies and gentlemen sit together. If a
+lady is so inconsiderate or selfish as to violate the rules of the boat,
+by inviting her husband or lover to take a seat in the ladies' cabin,
+there is no impropriety in sending the chambermaid to remind him that he
+must leave the room. This is often done, and always should be. We once
+saw a gentleman (or a pretended one) so pertinacious in remaining, (it
+is true his lady-love urged him "not to mind,") that the captain had to
+be brought to threaten him with forcible expulsion. This had the desired
+effect.
+
+Such are the facilities of travelling, that a lady evidently
+respectable, plainly dressed, and behaving properly, may travel very
+well without a gentleman. Two ladies still better. On commencing the
+journey she should speak to the conductor, requesting him to attend to
+her and her baggage, and to introduce her to the captain of the boat,
+who will of course take charge of her during the voyage.
+
+Before arriving at the wharf, she had best engage one of the servants of
+the boat, (promising him a shilling or two,) to obtain for her a porter
+or a hack, and to see that her baggage is safe. She must stipulate with
+the hackman that no stranger is to be put into the carriage with her.
+This is against the law, but notwithstanding, is often done, and the
+lady who has first engaged the coach, is liable to have for her
+riding-companions persons of improper character and vulgar appearance,
+and to be carried with them to their places in remote parts of the city,
+before she is conveyed to her own home. Previous to getting in, take the
+number of the coach, by writing it on a card with your pencil, and make
+your bargain with him as to the charge for conveying you and your
+baggage.
+
+It would be well if the imposition and insolence of hack-drivers were
+_always_ followed with the punishments provided by law. Ladies are
+naturally unwilling to appear at a magistrate's office. But it is the
+duty of every gentleman, as a good citizen, to see that the municipal
+regulations are never violated with impunity.
+
+All trouble may be avoided on arriving, by sending for the captain of
+the boat, and requesting him to see you on shore, or to depute his clerk
+to that office.
+
+In arriving at a rail-road depot, be careful not to quit the cars till
+after they have positively stopped quite still. The time gained is but
+an instant, and the risk is very imminent of serious injury by falling,
+should your ankle twist in stepping out while there is the least motion.
+
+On arriving at a hotel, ask immediately to see the proprietor; give him
+your name and address, tell how long you purpose staying, and request
+him to see that you are provided with a good room. Request him also to
+conduct you to the dining-room at dinner-time, and allot you a seat near
+his own. For this purpose, he will wait for you near the door, (do not
+_keep him waiting_,) or meet you in the ladies' drawing-room. While at
+table, if the proprietor or any other gentleman asks you to take wine
+with him, politely refuse.
+
+If, on arriving at the wharf, you expect a gentleman to meet you, take a
+seat either on deck near the cabin-door, or just inside of the door, so
+that he may find you easily.
+
+If you are to pursue your journey early in the morning, desire,
+over-night, the waiter who attends your room, to knock hard at your door
+an hour before the time of starting. Before you go down-stairs, ask for
+the chambermaid who has attended you, and give her a fee, (not less than
+a quarter-dollar,) putting it into her own hand yourself, and not
+commissioning another to convey it to her. Do not omit giving a
+quarter-dollar at least, to the waiter who attended your room, and one
+also to him who has served you at table.
+
+Refrain from making acquaintance with any strangers, unless you are
+certain of their respectability. If a gentleman of whom you know
+nothing, endeavours to get into conversation with you, turn away, and
+make no reply. Avoid saying any thing to women in showy attire, with
+painted faces, and white kid gloves. Such persons have frequently the
+assurance to try to be very sociable with respectable ladies who are
+travelling alone. Keep aloof from them always.
+
+If you have breakfasted early, it will be well to put some
+gingerbread-nuts or biscuits into your satchel, as you may become very
+hungry before dinner.
+
+Carry but little money in your pocket--not more than will suffice for
+the expenses of the day. But for travelling, have another pocket,
+concealed _beneath_ your upper petticoat, and _in that_ keep the main
+portion of your cash. Be cautious of taking bank-notes in change--they
+may be such as you cannot pass. If they are offered to you, refuse them,
+and insist upon gold or silver.
+
+Travelling in America, ladies frequently meet with little civilities
+from gentlemen, so delicately offered, that to refuse them would be
+rude. These incidental acts of politeness should always be acknowledged
+with thanks; but they should not be construed into a desire of
+commencing an acquaintance. If a lady obliged to travel alone, wishes to
+be treated with respect, her own deportment must in all things be quiet,
+modest and retiring.
+
+If you have a servant with you, see that she gets her meals, and has a
+comfortable sleeping-place, or in all probability she will be neglected
+and overlooked. In a steamboat or a hotel, speak yourself to the
+head-waiter, and desire him to take her to the servants' table and
+attend to her; and tell the chambermaid to see her provided with a bed.
+If their lady forgets to look out for them, coloured women in particular
+have often no courage to look out for themselves.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[8] In a former work of the author's, _The House Book_, published by A.
+Hart, Philadelphia, will be found ample directions for packing trunks,
+&c.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+DEPORTMENT AT A HOTEL, OR AT A LARGE BOARDING-HOUSE.
+
+
+Now that there is so much travelling in the summer, (and indeed at all
+seasons,) and so much living in public, to save the trouble and the
+expense of keeping house in private, it may be well to offer some hints
+on the propriety of manners that ought to be observed in places where
+you are always exposed to the inspection and to the remarks of
+strangers. These strangers, knowing you but slightly, or not at all,
+will naturally draw their inferences for or against you from what they
+see before their eyes; concluding that you are genteel or ungenteel,
+patrician or plebeian, according to the coarseness or the polish of your
+manners.
+
+Yet strange to say, there are persons who indulge themselves in
+astounding acts of rudeness, from the supposition that a hotel is only a
+tavern, a sort of Liberty Hall, where every one has a right to "take
+their ease in their inn," if they pay for it. Have they no respect for
+themselves?
+
+It is usual for members of the same party to meet in the ladies'
+drawing-room before they go in to breakfast, unless the party is large;
+and then it is not expected that half a dozen persons should be kept
+waiting for one or two late risers, or tardy dressers. When two or
+three of the party find themselves ready in the parlour, it will be best
+for them to proceed to the eating-room, and leave the others to follow
+at their convenience, by twos or by threes,--always seeing that a young
+lady, if a stranger, is not left to go in alone. Strangers at hotels can
+have no particular seats at breakfast and tea, as at these two repasts,
+they always come to table by instalments, and at no regular time. If a
+large party enters all at once and they are _determined_ to sit all
+together, they may occasion much inconvenience to persons already
+seated, or to the regular boarders, who have their allotted seats.
+Neither is there any necessity or advantage in six, eight, or ten
+people, who travel as one party, resolving to establish themselves at a
+hotel-table all side by side, in a row; particularly when it causes
+inconvenience to others. Certainly not more than three or four persons
+ranged in a line can join in the same conversation, or attend to the
+wants of their friends. Why then should they make any extraordinary
+point of occupying chairs next to each other. It would be better to
+divide their forces; and if they can, for half to sit on one side of the
+table, and the other half directly opposite. Or they will find that if
+the table is full, and they have to disperse still more widely, they had
+best do so with a good grace, rather than make any disturbance on the
+subject. When they quit the table to return to the drawing-room they may
+be very sure of all meeting again near the door.
+
+Nine o'clock (or half-past) is the latest hour that any guest at a
+hotel should come to breakfast; and few _Americans_ have so little
+consideration as to detain the table and the servants till ten or
+eleven.[9] At a boarding-house, the guests are very soon made to
+understand that if they are late risers, they need expect nothing but
+the cold leavings of the breakfast. At a hotel they find more
+indulgence. You there choose from the bill of fare such dishes as you
+may prefer, and they will be brought to you, after you have been
+supplied with tea or coffee, and bread and butter to begin with. To each
+person is allowed a separate dish or plate of the articles selected; and
+it is understood to be for yourself alone, and that no other person has
+a right to partake of it, or to meddle with it in any way. Yet even from
+your own dish, never help yourself with the knife and fork or spoon you
+are eating with; but always use a spare one, with which the waiter will
+furnish you. Do not eat different sorts of relishes off the same plate.
+At a hotel there is no scarcity of plates, or of servants to change
+them. Always take butter with the butter-knife, and then do not forget
+to return that knife to the butter-plate. Carefully avoid cutting bread
+with your own knife, or taking salt with it from the salt-cellar. It
+looks as if you had not been accustomed to butter-knives and
+salt-spoons.
+
+Ladies no longer eat salt-fish at a public-table. The odour of it is
+now considered extremely ungenteel, and it is always very disagreeable
+to those who _do not_ eat it. If you breakfast alone, you can then
+indulge in it.
+
+Speak to the waiter in a distinct, but not in too loud a voice, and
+always civilly. Thank him for any little extra attention he may show
+you. If you do not like what he has brought you, or find that you cannot
+eat it, make your objection in a low voice, so as not to be heard by the
+neighbouring guests; and quietly desire him to bring you something else.
+
+It is usual at a hotel-table for each waiter to have charge of three or
+four persons, and to attend to _their_ wants exclusively. If you are a
+stranger, ask the waiter his name when he first comes to you; and unless
+he is not at hand, and you see another standing idle, do not call on any
+one else to attend you.
+
+If the servants are coloured men, refrain from all conversation in their
+presence that may grate harshly on their feelings, by reminding them of
+their unfortunate African blood. Do not talk of them as "negroes,"[10]
+or "darkies." Avoid all discussions of abolition, (either for or
+against,) when coloured people are by. Also, quote none of their
+laughable sayings while they are present.
+
+When the domestics are Irish, and you have occasion to reprove them for
+their negligence, forgetfulness, or blunders, do so without any
+reference to their country. If you find one who is disrespectful or
+insolent, or who persists in asserting a falsehood, it is safest to make
+no reply yourself, but to have the matter represented to the proprietor
+of the house; desiring that another waiter may be allotted to you.
+
+It is ungenteel to go to the breakfast-table in any costume approaching
+to full dress. There must be no flowers or ribbons in the hair. A
+morning-cap should be as simple as possible. The most genteel
+morning-dress is a close gown of some plain material, with long sleeves,
+which in summer may be white muslin. A merino or cashmere wrapper,
+(grey, brown, purple, or olive,) faced or trimmed with other merino of
+an entirely different colour, such as crimson, scarlet, green, or blue,
+is a becoming morning dress for winter. In summer, a white
+cambric-muslin morning-robe is the handsomest breakfast attire, but one
+of gingham or printed muslin the most convenient. The coloured dress may
+be made open in front, with short loose sleeves and a pointed body.
+Beneath it a white under-dress, having a chemisette front down to the
+belt, and long white sleeves down to the wrist. This forms a very
+graceful morning costume, the white skirt appearing where the coloured
+skirt opens.
+
+The fashion of wearing black silk mittens at breakfast is now obsolete.
+It was always inconvenient, and neither useful nor ornamental.
+
+After breakfast, it is customary for the ladies to adjourn to the
+drawing-room, where they converse, or read the papers, or receive early
+visiters, while the chambermaids are putting the bed-chambers in order.
+Some who are not accustomed to hotels, go immediately from the
+breakfast-table to their own apartment, sitting there among the flue and
+dust during the whole process of bed-making and room-sweeping; afraid to
+trust the chambermaid alone, lest she should steal something. This is
+absurd. They should know that the chambermaids (being all considered
+honest and responsible) are furnished with duplicate keys, by which they
+can at any time unlock the chamber-doors, and let themselves in, when
+the occupant is absent. Also, this palpable suspicion of their honesty
+is an insult to the girls, and is always felt as such. It is sufficient
+to lock the bureau, the wardrobe, and your trunks. When you go out,
+(that is, out of the house,) _then_ lock the door of your room, lest
+some one passing by, should have curiosity to stroll in and look about,
+and meddle with what they see there.
+
+Should you perceive that the dress of another lady is, by some accident,
+out of order--for instance, that a hook or a button has become
+unfastened; or that a string is visibly hanging out; a collar unpinned,
+and falling off; the corner of a shawl dragging along the floor; a skirt
+caught up; or a sleeve slipping down, immediately have the kindness to
+apprize her of it in a low voice, and assist her in repairing the
+mischance; and, if necessary, leave the room with her for that purpose.
+
+We have seen a lady who, finding that a cluster of her false curls was
+coming down, had the courage to say so to a gentleman with whom she was
+conversing at a party. And going openly, and at once, to the nearest
+mirror, she calmly adjusted her borrowed locks, and returned to her seat
+with a good grace. Consequently, nobody laughed at the untoward
+accident; as might perhaps have been the case, had she seemed
+excessively confused and mortified, and awkwardly tried to hold on her
+curls till she got out of the room.
+
+If you do not wish to be encumbered by carrying the key in your pocket,
+let it be left during your absence, with the clerk in the office, or
+with the barkeeper; and send to him for it on your return. Desire the
+servant who attends the door to show no person up to your room during
+your absence. If visiters wish to wait for your return, it is best they
+should do so in the parlour.
+
+In going in and out, be careful to shut the parlour-doors after you,
+except in summer. Young ladies are often very inconsiderate in this
+respect, and cause much inconvenience, in cold weather, to those who do
+not like to sit with a draught of keen air blowing upon them. Even if
+you feel too warm yourself, it is rude to throw open a door, (much more
+to raise a window-sash,) without first enquiring if other ladies have no
+objection.
+
+There is no impropriety in a lady commencing conversation with a
+stranger of genteel appearance. You can easily take occasion to mention
+your own name, and then, in return, she will communicate hers. But,
+unless you are previously certain of her respectability, have little to
+say to a woman who is travelling without a companion, and whose face is
+painted, who wears a profusion of long curls about her neck, who has a
+meretricious expression of eye, and who is over-dressed. It is safest to
+avoid her. Also, you will derive no pleasure or advantage from making
+acquaintance with females who are evidently coarse and vulgar, even if
+you know that they are rich, live in a large house, and are of
+respectable character. Young girls who are loud, noisy, bold, and
+forward, (however fashionable they may be,) it is best also to avoid.
+They will not want your society, as they are generally all the time
+surrounded by "beaux," or else rattling over the keys of the piano.
+
+In a public parlour, it is selfish and unmannerly to sit down to the
+instrument uninvited, and fall to playing or practising, without seeming
+to consider the probability of your interrupting or annoying the rest of
+the company, particularly when you see them all engaged in reading or in
+conversation. If you want amusement, you had better read, or occupy
+yourself with some light sewing or knitting-work.
+
+If you have no book, you can ring the bell, and send to the reading-room
+to borrow a file of newspapers; but in most hotels, there are books
+belonging to the establishment, lying on a table in the ladies' parlour.
+Be sure not to carry any of these books up-stairs, as they are intended
+solely for the drawing-room; and their removal from thence is
+interdicted. Also, never carry away the Directory, the Atlas, the City
+Guide, or any other book placed there for the convenience of strangers.
+
+If you want pen and ink, or any sort of stationery, you can obtain it
+immediately, by ringing for a servant to bring it you from the office.
+In ringing the bell, one pull is sufficient; and always pull the cord
+_downward_. If you jerk it out horizontally, and give successively
+several hard pulls in that direction, the cord is very likely to break,
+or the knob or tassel to come off in your hand. At the chief hotel in
+one of the New England cities, we saw a printed paper with directions in
+large type, pasted beside _every bell-pull in the house_; the directions
+specifying minutely the proper mode of bell-ringing. Could it be that
+this house was frequented by persons unaccustomed to bells?
+
+To return to the too-prevalent evil of uninvited and ill-timed
+piano-playing, (much of which does not deserve the name of music,) we
+have always been at a loss to understand how a young stranger, (modest
+and unobtrusive in other things,) could walk up to the instrument,
+sometimes almost as soon as she arrives, and rattle "fast and furious"
+over the keys, drowning the voices of ladies and gentlemen who were
+talking, and therefore compelling them to cease their conversation; or
+if they pursued it, obliging them to raise their tone painfully; or to
+lose more than half, from the impossibility of hearing each other
+distinctly. To read when piano-playing is going on, is to most persons
+impossible. There are few readers who cannot so concentrate their
+attention on their book, as not to be disturbed by any _talking_ that
+may occur in their vicinity; and if talking _does_ withdraw their
+attention from the book, it is best that they should read only when
+alone in their apartment. But we have met with no one who could read in
+the neighbourhood of a played piano.
+
+If the music is really very good, and accompanied by a fine voice, it is
+true that most readers will willingly close the book to listen. But if
+the playing is barely tolerable, or decidedly bad, and if the singing is
+weak and insipid, or harsh and screaming, or timeless and tasteless, who
+can possibly wish to hear it; except perhaps a doating father, or an
+injudicious mother, vain of her daughter because she is _hers_, and so
+anxious to show her off, that she encourages the girl to display even
+her deficiencies.
+
+We believe that our beloved America is not yet the land of music; and
+that (with many exceptions) her children are generally not furnished
+with much capacity for it. If there was a true feeling for music, there
+would be more genius for that charming art, and there would be more
+composers of original airs, the number of which, in our country, is
+smaller than in any civilized nation in the world. It is true we have
+many excellent musicians, and many very good singers, but still, music
+is not the grand forte of Jonathan. Pity it were,--for he has "a nobler
+and a manlier one."
+
+Now as "there is a time for all things," we persist in saying that the
+time and place for school-girls to hear their own music, or to prove
+that it is not worth hearing, is not in the drawing-room of a hotel, or
+in the presence of a company that can have no desire to hear them. What
+would be thought of a young lady, who in a public room, should suddenly
+come forward and "speak a speech;" or suddenly rise up, and commence,
+"loud and high," a reading of poetry, or recite a French fable, or
+repeat the multiplication table, or favour the company with a
+spontaneous _pas seul_. And yet we do not perceive that any of these
+feats would be a much greater evidence of deficiency in diffidence, (to
+call it by no bolder name,) than the practice of rattling, uninvited and
+unseasonably, over the keys of a piano. A really good musician is rarely
+obtrusive with her music, seldom playing unless she is asked; and then,
+of course, complying at once.[11]
+
+We repeat that no lady should play or sing in company, unless she knows
+herself to be universally considered a good singer or player, and
+capable of something more than the mere series of lessons she has learnt
+from her music teacher. Also, some punishment should be devised for a
+young girl who cannot play, yet has the folly and assurance to seat
+herself at the piano of a public parlour, and annoy the company by an
+hour of tinking and tanking with one finger only. Yet this we have seen;
+and her mother present all the time.
+
+The gratuitous exhibition of bad music is said by Europeans to be one of
+the peculiar characteristics of American young ladies. Let them then
+"reform it altogether."
+
+Bring no large sewing into the ladies' drawing-room, and nothing that
+will produce clippings or litter. Whenever you have occasion to write
+more than a few lines, do it in your own apartment. It is well to have
+always there a small writing-case of your own, with paper, pens, ink,
+wafers, sealing-wax, envelopes, post-office stamps, &c. There are very
+neat little writing-cases, (to be purchased at the best stationers,)
+that are fitted with receptacles for all the above articles, excepting
+paper; the whole occupying no more space in your travelling-satchel than
+a needle-book. The ink is so secured, that there is no danger of its
+spilling. You may even carry these writing-cases in your pocket as
+conveniently as a card-case. As writing-paper should not be folded or
+rolled in packing, lay it flat in a small port-folio, and put it into
+your trunk. You will find great convenience, when from home, to have
+with you a little assortment of writing materials.
+
+Except in cases of illness, it is well to decline invitations to visit
+ladies in their own apartments, unless you are very intimately
+acquainted with them, or have some particular business. Too much
+sociability may induce communications too confidential; and subsequent
+events may prove this confidence to be misplaced. Among the ladies
+staying at a hotel, there is always more harmony, when they all content
+themselves with meeting at table, or in the public drawing-room. Young
+ladies should not encourage daily morning visits from young men boarding
+at the same house, particularly if these visits are long. In our
+country, nearly every young man is obliged, in some way, to get his own
+living; and few can afford to idle away their mornings in loitering
+about parlours, and talking flirtation. A youth who passes his time in
+this manner, is a beau not worth having. A man that deserves to be
+called a _good match_ has something else to do with his mornings. Ladies
+at hotels should be specially careful not to make acquaintance with
+gentlemen of whom they know nothing. If a man of notoriously dissipated
+or immoral character, presumes to request an introduction to a lady who
+is aware of his bad reputation, let her at once reply that not
+considering the acquaintance desirable, she must be excused for
+declining it. It is better thus to keep off an objectionable man, (even
+with the certainty of offending him,) than weakly to subject yourself to
+the annoyance and discredit (perhaps, still worse) of allowing him to
+boast of his intimacy with you.
+
+In conversing with gentlemen at hotels, (and all other places,) try not
+to fall into the too common practice of talking to him nothing but
+nonsense. It is a problem difficult to solve, that so many ladies of
+good abilities and cultivated minds, and who always with their own sex
+talk like intelligent, sensible women, should, as soon as they get into
+conversation with a gentleman, seem immediately to take leave of
+rationality, and demean themselves like utter fools--giving way at once
+to something they call _excitement_, now the fashionable word for almost
+every feeling that is wrong.
+
+We grieve to see a charming, modest, refined young lady, almost the
+moment a gentleman begins to talk to her, changing her whole demeanour,
+and quickly becoming bold, forward, noisy, and nonsensical; chattering
+at the top of her voice about nothing; and keeping up a continual laugh
+about nothing. Does she suppose he cannot understand her if she talks
+sense,--or does she think he will like her the better for regaling him
+with nothing but folly? She is, in all probability, egregiously
+mistaken, unless the gentleman is himself a simpleton.
+
+Let it not be supposed that we have any objection to that sprightliness
+which is one of the most agreeable characteristics of youth. On the
+contrary, we are glad to see vivacity in women of all ages; and if they
+have a sprinkling of wit and humour, so much the better. But we wish
+them to do themselves justice; and not, when conversing with men, run
+wild, because it _is_ with men; and give themselves up to all manner of
+folly, such as would be pointless, vapid, and insipid, if it was not
+seasoned with causeless laughter, and with eyes keeping time to the
+tongue, rolling about in perpetual motion at nothing. We do not wish
+ladies in conversing, even with men of sense, to confine themselves
+always to grave discussions on important subjects. On the contrary, gay
+and lively conversation is always pleasant, when well-timed. But those
+who have not a talent for wit and humour, had best not attempt it.
+Again, in listening to a woman of real wit, you will see that it is her
+hearers who laugh, and not herself.
+
+Persons who have no turn for humour, and little perception of it, are
+apt to mistake mere coarseness for that amusing gift; and in trying to
+be diverting, often become vulgar--a word not too severe for things that
+are sometimes said and written by very good people who wish to be funny,
+and do not know how. For instance, there is no wit, but there is
+shocking ungentility, in a lady to speak of taking a "snooze" instead of
+a nap,--in calling pantaloons "pants," or gentlemen "gents,"--in saying
+of a man whose dress is getting old that he looks "seedy,"--and in
+alluding to an amusing anecdote, or a diverting incident, to say that it
+is "rich." All slang words are detestable from the lips of ladies.
+
+We are always sorry to hear a young lady use such a word as "polking"
+when she tells of having been engaged in a certain dance too fashionable
+not long since; but happily, now it is fast going out, and almost
+banished from the best society. To her honour be it remembered, Queen
+Victoria has prohibited the polka being danced in her presence. How can
+a genteel girl bring herself to say, "Last night I was polking with Mr.
+Bell," or "Mr. Cope came and asked me to polk with him." Its coarse and
+ill-sounding name is worthy of the dance.
+
+If you own a lap-dog or poodle, recollect that however charming it may
+be to yourself, others may regard it as an annoyance; therefore, try to
+do without it when you are in the parlour of a house that is not your
+own, and when the company present does not consist entirely of your own
+family. All but their infatuated mistresses soon become very tired of
+the society of these animals. Poodles are generally peevish, whining,
+and snappish, prone to get under chairs and bite at feet, and to writhe
+about the skirts of dresses. Their faces often look old, withered,
+cross, and blear-eyed, seeming as if constantly troubled by the hair
+that dangles uncomfortably in their eyes; and they are seldom healthy.
+They have none of the honest, grateful, affectionate character common to
+dogs of larger growth. Though they often inspire their mistress with a
+love that becomes such a mania as to weaken her affection for all other
+things, they seldom make friends of any one else. We include what is
+called a King Charles's dog in the same category. For instance
+Jip--whose character is as true to nature, and as admirably drawn as
+that of Dora herself.
+
+Should a visiter come in to see one of the boarders who may be sitting
+near you, change your place, and take a seat in a distant part of the
+room. It is ill-manners to remain, and listen to the conversation. It is
+best for the visited lady to meet her friend as soon as she sees her
+enter the room, and conduct her to a sofa or ottoman where they can
+enjoy their talk without danger of being overheard. After the visiter is
+gone, do not enquire her name of the friend she has just called on.
+
+It is _not_ well to call at the same time on two ladies both living at
+the same house, (so as to make one visit suffice for both,) unless they
+are intimate friends of each other, or unless your stay in the city will
+be very short. If one is taciturn, and the other conversable, she that
+is silent may imagine herself neglected, by the dialogue being chiefly
+between those who can talk fluently, as it certainly will be, if the
+third person only speaks when spoken to, and replies in monosyllables.
+
+It is better to make a separate visit to each lady, on different days.
+There is another way, and a very good one. For instance, should Mrs.
+Canning wish to call on Mrs. Austin and Miss Lovel, both inmates of the
+same house, let her, when shown into the parlour, send up her name to
+Mrs. Austin first. When that lady comes down, and she and her friend
+have conversed about as long as the usual term of a morning call, Mrs.
+Canning will rise to depart, and when Mrs. Austin has seen her to the
+parlour door, Mrs. C. may say, "I will detain you no longer," or "I will
+encroach no longer on your time, but I am going now to send up for Miss
+Lovel."
+
+Mrs. Austin then takes her leave, and goes up-stairs, (_her_ part of the
+visit being over;) while Mrs. Canning returns to her seat in the
+parlour, having first rung the bell, and sent for Miss Lovel.
+
+In this manner, two distinct visits may be politely made to two ladies
+living in the same hotel--and it is very customary.
+
+Any lady that lives at a hotel can in some degree make a return for the
+civilities received from private families, by occasionally inviting a
+friend to dine or take tea with her. These dinners or teas are of course
+always charged in her bill. If she expects a friend, she will previously
+send to apprize the head-waiter that she wishes him to reserve a seat
+next to her own, for a lady. She should give her arm to her guest, in
+going to the table.
+
+If a friend chances to call, whom she really wishes to stay and dine or
+drink tea with her, she should ask her guest to take off her bonnet as
+soon as she comes in; giving her the invitation at once, and not
+delaying it till the visiter is about taking her leave.
+
+Even in a private house, such extemporaneous invitations (which if
+evidently sincere, are always gratifying, whether accepted or not)
+should be given _immediately_, as soon as the hostess meets her guest.
+There will then be time to order any improvement in the table
+arrangements that may be deemed necessary.
+
+We often have occasion to repeat, that whatever is done at all, should
+be done well.
+
+If, while in the parlour of the hotel, you wish to know if a person you
+are desirous of seeing is staying at the house, the easiest way to
+obtain the information, is not to enquire round of the ladies present,
+but to ring the bell, and desire the waiter to go and ask at the office.
+You can then send a message accordingly. It should be a card with a
+message pencilled on it.
+
+By sending to the office you may learn where all the public places in
+the city and its environs are to be found. Also, where the churches are
+situated.
+
+You may be sure that the most fashionable shops are in the main street.
+
+At any stationer's, you can buy a small pocket-map of the city, folded
+in a little morocco case. This will be an almost indispensable aid in
+finding your way. In Philadelphia, the arrangement of the long streets
+that run east and west from the Delaware to the Schuylkill, has given
+occasion to the old rhyme of
+
+    Market, Arch, Race and Vine,
+    Chestnut, Walnut, Spruce and Pine.
+
+If when about to ascend the stairs, you find that a gentleman is going
+up at the same time, draw back and make a sign for him to precede you.
+He will bow, and pass on before you. When coming down, do the same, that
+the gentleman may descend in advance of you.
+
+A very polished man will not wait for a signal from the lady, but will
+bow and run up-stairs, passing her as a thing of course.
+
+Do not idly detain a parlour newspaper on your lap, for half an hour or
+more, after you have done reading it. As soon as you have read all you
+want, replace it on the table, or transfer it to another lady, who may
+wish to read it, and who may have been waiting anxiously to see you lay
+it out of your hand. You have no right to monopolize any thing that is
+intended for the convenience of the whole company.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[9] Nevertheless, it is not good manners to make any remark (even to a
+friend) on their coming to breakfast late or early. It is no concern of
+yours, and they have reasons of their own, undoubtedly.
+
+[10] Americans never really say _niggers_, though constantly accused of
+doing so by their British cousins. The word _negor_ we have heard, but
+_nigger_ never.
+
+[11] It is customary with professional or public musicians, when in
+private company, to volunteer a song or a piece; knowing that, out of
+delicacy, no one will _ask_ them to give a gratuitous specimen of the
+art by which they live. This is polite and proper. It is always duly
+appreciated, and adds to the popularity of the performer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+HOTEL DINNER.
+
+
+In dressing for a hotel dinner, it is not well to adopt a full evening
+costume, and to appear as if attired for a ball; for instance, with a
+coloured velvet gown; or one of a splendid brocade; or a transparent
+gauze material over a satin; or with short sleeves and bare neck in cold
+weather; or with flowers or jewels in the hair. Such costumes should be
+reserved for evening parties. If worn at the table d'hote, it may be
+suspected you have no other place in which to display them. Your dress
+need not be more showy than you would wear when dining at a private
+house, particularly if you are a permanent boarder. There is no place
+where dress escapes with less scrutiny than at a great hotel. Still, it
+is bad taste to go to the dinner-table in ungenteel and unbecoming
+habiliments--such as a figured or party-coloured mousseline-de-laine, a
+thing which always has the effect of calico, and, like calico, gives an
+unlady-like look even to the most decided lady. In fact, what is it but
+woollen calico? And if it is accompanied by a very thin, flimsy collar,
+so small and narrow as to be scarcely visible, the neck and face will
+look dingy and ill-coloured for want of sufficient white to relieve it.
+No collar at all, but merely a coloured silk handkerchief, or a
+coloured dress, coming immediately against the neck, is disfiguring to
+all women, and men too.
+
+Most American ladies beyond the age of thirty-five, look better in caps
+than without them, even if their hair shows no signs of middle age.
+Before that time, the females of our country begin to fade, evincing one
+effect of torrid summers and frozen winters. A tasteful and simply
+elegant cap (not one that is elaborate in its design, and loaded with
+ornament,) imparts a grace and softness to a faded face, and renders
+less conspicuous the inroads of time. A decidedly old lady, persisting
+in going with her head uncovered, is a pitiable object, and scarcely
+looks respectable. Worse still, when she takes to an auburn wig. Gray
+hair is seldom unbecoming to a man. To a woman it gives a masculine
+aspect, especially if worn without a cap; and if there is an attempt at
+long gray locks, or ringlets, the effect is strange, wild and ghastly.
+It is far more becoming for an elderly lady to give a dark shade to her
+temples, and the upper part of her forehead, by a plain, simple, and
+becoming dark-coloured braid, not intended to pass as her natural hair,
+(for it never does,) but merely that the face should be set off by a due
+proportion of shadow,--and not be all light or lightish. If a decidedly
+old lady prefers wearing her own gray hair, let her part it smoothly on
+her forehead, but make no attempt at curls, and be sure to add a cap to
+it. An elderly female should, as we have said, _always_ wear a cap; and
+her cap should have tabs or broad strings to tie under her chin. There
+is no use or beauty in a lady looking older than is necessary, by
+wearing a short-eared or round-eared cap, set back from her head, and
+exposing all her cheeks even beyond her ears, with the crease in her
+chin, and the deep furrows or wrinkles on each side of her neck--all
+which can be concealed by bringing forward the bow of her cap tabs.
+
+Let all ladies, old and young, avoid having their caps trimmed with
+ribbons or flowers of what are called high-colours; deep, heavy pinks
+and blues, and reddish lilacs. These colours vulgarize every thing they
+are intended to decorate. High-coloured ribbons, flowered or figured,
+are decidedly vulgar.
+
+A profusion of jewels at a public table is in very bad taste,
+particularly if the jewellery is palpably false--for instance, a large
+brooch with great mock diamonds, or a string of wax beads meant for
+pearls. Still worse, glass things imitating topazes or garnets--or two
+or three gilt bracelets on one arm. A _large_ imitation gem always
+betrays its real quality by its size.
+
+Endeavour to make your arrangements so as to be dressed for dinner, and
+seated in the ladies' drawing-room, about ten or fifteen minutes before
+the dining-hour, that you may be ready to go in with the rest of the
+company.
+
+If you and your party are strangers, recently arrived, do not at once
+take the lead, and walk up to the head of the table, regardless of
+dislodging and causing inconvenience among the regular boarders, to whom
+those seats have been allotted. But desire a servant to show you a
+place. The head-waiter is usually at hand to arrange seats for the
+strangers, and he will attend to you. Persons not accustomed to hotels,
+frequently show a great craving for the seats near the head of the
+table. This is foolish. There are no places of honour; neither are the
+eatables better at one part of the table than another.
+
+Nobody "sits below the salt." And every one has an equal chance of
+obtaining a share of the nicest articles on the table. What is most
+desirable is to have a seat in the vicinity of agreeable people, and you
+will more frequently find them about the middle, or lower end of the
+table, than at the top--that being the place usually most coveted by the
+least genteel of the guests. We have seen the Chief Magistrate of the
+Union, "the ruler of millions," simply take a seat near the door, at the
+lower end of a hotel-table, in Philadelphia, having arrived
+unexpectedly.
+
+As we have said before, we perceive not the propriety or the convenience
+of a large party of strangers, on entering in a body, pertinaciously
+making their way to the upper end of the table, with a determination to
+obtain seats all in a row; as if the whole row together could join in
+the same conversation, or even _see_ each other, when they sit on the
+same side.
+
+In seating yourself, look down for a moment to see if you have placed
+the foot of your chair on the dress of the lady sitting next to you; and
+if you have done so, remove it immediately, that her dress may be in no
+danger of tearing when she attempts to rise. Sit close to the table,
+but never lean your elbows upon it. To sit far from it, and reach out
+distantly, is very awkward. Having unfolded your napkin, secure it to
+your belt with a pin, to prevent its slipping down from your lap, and
+falling under the table. This may be done so that the pinning will not
+be perceptible. Bring with you a spare pin or two for this purpose,--or
+keep always a pincushion in your pocket. It is much better than to incur
+the risk of getting your dress greased or stained by the napkin
+deserting your lap. If such accidents _should_ happen, pass them over
+slightly, and do not lose your temper. For the present, wipe the spot
+with your napkin, and dip the corner in water, and rub it lightly over
+the grease-mark. When dinner is over, you can finish repairing the
+injury in your own room. The coloured waiters are generally very clever
+at removing grease-spots from dresses. One of them will do it for you
+after dinner. The stain of wine or fruit may in most cases be taken out
+of a washable article by laying it immediately in cold water.
+
+To eat in gloves or mittens was always foolish; fortunately it is no
+longer fashionable; but greatly the contrary.
+
+Refrain from loud talking, or loud laughing. Young ladies truly genteel
+are never conspicuously noisy at a public table, or anywhere else. Still
+more carefully refrain from whispering, or exchanging significant
+glances. Whispers are always overheard, (even when the vulgar precaution
+is taken of screening your mouth with your hand,) and glances are
+always observed.[12] Joggings, nudgings, pinchings, sleeve-pullings,
+&c. are excessively unlady-like, and shamefully impudent when (as is
+often the case) the eye of the jogger is fixed upon the object of the
+jog. To put up an eye-glass at the face of a stranger, is very rude. So
+it is to make remarks in French.
+
+When eating fish, first remove the bones carefully, and lay them on the
+edge of your plate. Then with your fork in your right hand, (the concave
+or hollow side held uppermost,) and a small piece of bread in your left,
+take up the flakes of fish. Servants, and all other persons, should be
+taught that the butter-sauce should not be _poured over_ the fish, but
+put on one side of the plate, that the eater may use it profusely or
+sparingly, according to taste, and be enabled to mix it conveniently
+with the sauce from the fish-castors. Pouring butter-sauce _over_ any
+thing is now ungenteel.
+
+Do not attempt removing a cover from a dish, that you may help yourself
+before the rest of the company. Leave all that to the waiters. Tell them
+what you want in a distinct, but not in a loud, conspicuous voice. In
+asking a servant to bring you a thing, add not the useless and senseless
+words "_will_ you?" for instance, "Bring me the bread, will you?"--"Give
+me some water, will you?" Of course he will. Has he the option of
+refusing? How you would be startled were he to answer, "_I will not_."
+It is well always to say, even to servants, "I will thank you for the
+bread,--or the water." If you are a stranger in the house, ask, at the
+beginning, the servant who waits on you to tell you his name. This may
+save you some inconvenience. Where servants are numerous, they should
+always go by their surnames, and be called Wilson, Jackson, Thomson, or
+whatever it may be. This will prevent the confusion arising from half a
+dozen Johns, or as many Williams.
+
+If the waiters are attentive, and in sufficient number, you will have,
+at a _good_ hotel, little or no occasion to help yourself to any thing.
+Do not, under any circumstances, reach across the table, or rise on your
+feet to get at any particular dish you may want. Trouble no one of the
+company; but wait till you see a servant at hand. No man who is a
+gentleman ever puts the ladies in requisition to help him at table.
+
+It is not customary at hotels for ladies to be assiduous in watching and
+supplying the plates of gentlemen. They can take care of themselves.
+
+If in turning to speak to a waiter, you find him in the act of serving
+some one else, say, "_When you are at leisure_, I will thank you for
+some water,"--or whatever you may want.
+
+It is selfish to be continually sending out of the room the man who
+waits near you, for the purpose of bringing extra things for yourself.
+Try to be satisfied with what you find on the table, and recollect that
+you are depriving others of his services, while you are dispatching him
+back and forward on errands to the kitchen.
+
+Many persons hold silver forks awkwardly, as if not accustomed to them.
+It is fashionable to use your knife only while cutting up the food small
+enough to be eaten with the fork alone. While cutting, keep the fork in
+your left hand, the hollow or concave side downward, the fork in a very
+slanting position, and your fore-finger extended far down upon its
+handle. When you have done cutting up what you are going to eat, lay
+aside your knife, transfer the fork to your right hand, and take a small
+piece of bread in your left. If eating any thing soft, use your silver
+fork somewhat as a spoon, turning up the hollow side that the cavity may
+hold the food. If engaged in talking, do not, meanwhile, hold your fork
+bolt upright, but incline it downward, so as to be nearly on a level
+with your plate. Remember, always, to keep your own knife, fork, and
+spoon out of the dishes. It is an insult to the company, and a disgrace
+to yourself, to dip into a dish any thing that has been even for a
+moment in your mouth. To take butter or salt with your own knife is an
+abomination. There is always a butter-knife and a salt-spoon. It is
+nearly as bad to take a lump of sugar with your fingers.
+
+In eating bread at dinner, break off little bits, instead of putting the
+whole piece to your mouth and biting at it.
+
+No lady looks worse than when gnawing a bone, even of game or poultry.
+Few _ladies_ do it. In fact, nothing should be sucked or gnawed in
+public; neither corn bitten off from the cob, nor melon nibbled from
+the rind.[13] It is very ungraceful to eat an orange at table, unless,
+having cut a bit off the top, you eat the inside with a
+tea-spoon--otherwise reserve it for the privacy of your own room. Always
+pare apples and peaches; and crack no nuts with your teeth. In eating
+cherries, put your half-closed hand before your mouth to receive the
+stones; then lay them on one side of your plate. To spit out the stones
+one at a time as you proceed with the cherries is very ungenteel. Get
+rid of plumb-stones in the same manner.
+
+Do not eat incongruous and unsuitable things from the same plate,
+telling the waiter that "he need not change it, as it will do very
+well." The washing of a plate (more or less) is no object whatever in a
+large establishment, and it is expected that the guests will have clean
+ones very frequently.
+
+It is an affectation of ultra-fashion to eat pie with a fork, and has a
+very awkward and inconvenient look. Cut it up first with your knife and
+fork both; then proceed to eat it with the fork in your right hand.
+
+Much of this determined fork-exercise may be considered foolish. But it
+is fashionable.
+
+If a lady wishes to eat lobster, let her request the waiter that attends
+her, to extract a portion of it from the shell, and bring it to her on a
+clean plate--also to place a castor near her.
+
+Novices in lobster sometimes eat it simply with salt, or with vinegar
+only, or with black pepper. This betrays great ignorance of the article.
+To prepare it according to the usual custom,--cut up, very small, the
+pieces of lobster, and on another plate make the dressing. First, mash
+together some hard-boiled yolk of egg, and some of the red coral of the
+lobster, with a little salt and cayenne. Mix in, with a fork, mustard to
+your taste; and then a liberal allowance of salad-oil, finishing with
+vinegar. Transfer the bits of lobster to the plate that has the
+dressing, and combine the whole with a fork. Lettuce salad is dressed in
+the same manner.
+
+At a public table, a lady should never volunteer to dress salad for
+others of the company. Neither should she cut up a pie, and help it
+round. These things ought only to be done by a gentleman, or a servant.
+
+If a gentleman with whom you are acquainted has dressed a salad, and
+offers the plate to you, take what you want, and immediately return to
+him the remainder; and do not pass it on to persons in your vicinity. It
+is _his_ privilege, and not _yours_ to offer it to others, as he has had
+the trouble of dressing it. And it is just that he should have a portion
+of it for himself, which will not be the case if you officiously hand it
+about to people around you. Leave it to him to dispose of as he pleases.
+
+It was formerly considered ill-manners to refuse to take wine with a
+gentleman. Now that the fortunate increase of temperance has induced so
+many persons to abjure, entirely, the use of all liquors, it is no
+longer an offence to decline these invitations. If you have no
+conscientious scruples, and if you are acquainted with the gentleman, or
+have been introduced to him, (not else,) you may comply with his
+civility, and when both glasses are filled, look at him, bow your head,
+and taste the wine. If you are placed between a lady and gentleman who
+are taking wine together, lean back a little that they may see each
+other's faces. It is not customary, in America, for a lady to empty her
+glass,--or indeed, at a hotel, or boarding-house, to take wine with the
+same gentleman after the first day. Next time he asks, politely refuse,
+simply desiring him to excuse you. If he is a true gentleman, he will
+regard your refusal in its proper light, and not persist. We have often,
+at a public table, regretted to see ladies in the daily practice of
+taking wine with the same gentleman as often as invited. This "daily
+practice" is improper, indelicate, and we will say mean--for wine is
+expensive, and no lady should every day place herself under the same
+obligation to the same gentleman, even for a single glass. He will not
+respect her the more for doing so. On no consideration let any lady be
+persuaded to take _two_ glasses of champagne. It is more than the head
+of an _American_ female can bear. And she may rest assured that (though
+unconscious of it herself) all present will find her cheeks flushing,
+her eyes twinkling, her tongue unusually voluble, her talk loud and
+silly, and her laugh incessant. Champagne is very insidious; and two
+glasses may throw her into this pitiable condition.
+
+If a stranger whom you do not know, and to whom you have had no
+introduction, takes the liberty of asking you to drink wine with him,
+refuse at once, positively and coldly, to prove that you consider it an
+unwarrantable freedom. And so it is.
+
+If you are helped to any thing whose appearance you do not like, or in
+which you are disappointed when you taste it, you, of course, at a hotel
+table, are not obliged to eat it. Merely leave it on your plate, without
+audibly giving the reason; and then, in a low voice, desire the waiter
+to bring you something else. It is well, while at table, to avoid any
+discussion of the demerits of the dishes. On the other hand, you may
+praise them as much as you please.
+
+In refusing to be helped to any particular thing, never give as a reason
+that "you are afraid of it," or "that it will disagree with you." It is
+sufficient simply to _refuse_; and then no one has a right to ask why?
+While at table, all allusions to dyspepsia, indigestion, or any other
+disorders of the stomach, are vulgar and disgusting. The word "stomach"
+should never be uttered at any table, or indeed anywhere else, except to
+your physician, or in a private conversation with a female friend
+interested in your health. It is a disagreeable word, (and so are all
+its associations,) and should never be mentioned in public to "ears
+polite." Also, make no remarks on what is eaten by persons near you,
+(except they are children, and under your own care,) such as its being
+unwholesome, indigestible, feverish, or in any way improper. It is no
+business of yours; and besides, you are not to judge of others by
+yourself. No two constitutions are alike, and what is very bad for
+_you_, may be perfectly innoxious to others. If persons are with you in
+whom you are much interested, and over whom you have influence, and they
+seem inclined to eat what is bad for them, refrain from checking them in
+presence of strangers. Above all, do not open your eyes, and hold up
+your hands, and exclaim against their folly, and want of self-control,
+and predict their certain sufferings from that cause. But if you _must_
+remonstrate, wait till you have quitted the table, and find yourself
+alone with the delinquent.
+
+Never, while at table, (whether in public or private,) allow yourself to
+talk on painful or disgusting subjects. Avoid all discussions of
+sicknesses, sores, surgical operations, dreadful accidents, shocking
+cruelties, or horrible punishments. A love of such topics, evinces a
+coarse and unfeminine mind. It is rude in gentlemen at any time to
+introduce them before ladies; and a polished man never does so. The
+conversation at table should be as cheerful and pleasant as possible.
+Political and sectarian controversies ought to have no place there.
+Shakspeare truly says, "Unquiet meals make ill digestion."
+
+Avoid the discussion at table of private affairs; either your own, or
+those of other people. Remember that "servants have ears," and
+frequently much more quickness of comprehension and retentiveness of
+memory than is generally supposed. So have children.
+
+Abstain from picking your teeth at table. Notwithstanding that custom
+has allowed this practice in Europe, (even in fashionable society,) it
+is still a very disagreeable one, and to delicate spectators absolutely
+sickening to behold. Delay it till you are alone, and till you can
+indulge in it without witnesses. We know that it is quite possible to go
+on through a long life, and to have clean teeth, without ever once
+having been _seen_ to pick them; and yet those teeth are really picked
+after every meal.
+
+Should you chance to be extremely incommoded by some extraneous
+substance that has gotten between your teeth, you can remove it
+unperceived, by holding up your napkin or handkerchief before your
+mouth, so as effectually to conceal the process. When you take any thing
+out of your teeth, do not make the persons who are near you sick, by
+laying the disgusting particle on the side of your plate; but conceal it
+immediately. Still, nothing but "sheer necessity" can excuse any
+teeth-picking at table.
+
+We have seen a young _lady_, at a very fashionable house in one of our
+great cities, pull a dish of stewed oysters close to her, and with a
+table-spoon fish out and eat the oysters one at a time; audibly sipping
+up their liquor from the said dish.
+
+We have seen a young _gentleman_ lift his plate of soup in both hands,
+hold it to his mouth and drink, or rather lap it up. This was at no less
+a place than Niagara.
+
+We have heard of a well-dressed stranger at a great hotel in Boston, who
+having used his own knife for the butter, flew into a violent passion
+with the waiter for respectfully pointing out to him the silver
+butter-knife. Swearing that the knife he had been putting in his mouth
+was quite good enough, afterward, for any butter in the world, the
+_gentleman_ flung the silver knife across the table, and broke it
+against the wall. For this exploit he had to pay five dollars.
+
+A man that habitually rises on his feet to reach across the table for a
+dish, and pulls it to himself, instead of desiring the waiter to bring
+it to him, is unworthy the appellation of a gentleman. Ladies, of
+course, cannot be guilty of this abomination; but it is true that they
+sometimes extend their arms entirely too far, in trying to get at
+something which a servant would bring them if asked to do so.
+
+Some persons behave coarsely at a public table because they are
+ignorant, and know no better. Some (far less excusable) are rude because
+they are too selfish to put any restraint on their inclinations, or to
+care for the convenience of others.
+
+Some display, all the time, a vulgar determination to "get the full
+worth of their money." Some, who at a _private_ dinner-table would be
+the most polite people imaginable, lay aside their good manners in a
+_public_ dining-room; regarding a hotel as they would a tavern--a sort
+of Liberty Hall. And some are insolent by way of "showing their
+consequence,"--having, in reality, mixed so little with _true_ people of
+consequence, as not to be aware that persons of high station are, with
+few exceptions, entirely free from the assumption of undue importance.
+
+Servants are often very shrewd observers, and they always say that real
+gentlefolks "never take airs." Neither they do.
+
+When the finger-glasses are sent round, dip a clean corner of your
+napkin into the water, and wet round your lips with it, but omit the
+disgusting foreign fashion of taking water into your mouth, rinsing and
+gurgling it round, and then spitting it back into the glass. Wait till
+you can give your mouth a regular and efficient washing up-stairs. Dip
+your fingers into the glass, rub them with the slice of lemon, or the
+orange-leaf that may be floating on the surface, and then wipe them on
+the napkin. We have heard of a man who saw finger-glasses for the first
+time in his life, when dining at one of the New York hotels. A slice of
+lemon floating on the top, he took up the bowl and drank the water,
+exclaiming as he set it down--"Well! if this isn't the poorest lemonade
+I ever tasted!"
+
+On quitting the table, it is not necessary to fold up your napkin.
+Merely lay it on the table near your plate. The napkins will be
+immediately collected by the servants, carried to the laundry, and
+thrown at once into tubs of water, to take out the stains.
+
+When dinner is over, and you see that nearly all the company, except two
+or three, have left the table, it is not well to be one of that two or
+three, and to remain to an indefinite period, loitering over the last
+pickings of a plate of nuts--nut-picking being always a tedious
+business. The waiters are, by this time, very tired of standing, and
+they (like all other people) are entitled to some consideration of their
+comfort. Even the attraction of a beau drinking his wine beside her,
+ought not to induce a young lady to outstay all the company, with the
+pretext of being passionately fond of nuts. She may indulge this passion
+at any time by keeping a bag of them in her own room.
+
+The English travellers who visit America are often right in their
+remarks on many of our customs. And instead of resenting these remarks,
+we might profit by them, and reform.
+
+For instance, it is true that the generality of Americans eat too fast,
+for their own health, and the comfort of those about them; masticating
+their food very slightly, and not allowing themselves time enough to
+enjoy their meals. The French, however, eat faster still, and can
+dispatch a surprising quantity of food in less time than any people in
+the civilized world. If we pattern after either nation in the customs of
+the table, the _genteel_ English are far better models than most of
+their neighbours across the Channel. But the best class of Americans are
+unsurpassed in the essentials of all these observances. The English
+attach too much importance to ceremonies merely conventional, and for
+which there seems no motive but the ever-changing decrees of fashion.
+Yet, on going to England, let every American lady take care to make
+herself acquainted with these ceremonies; for her ignorance of them will
+find no quarter there--and she need not flatter herself that it will be
+passed over unnoticed.
+
+In most hotels it is not customary to have hot cakes or any warm dishes
+on the tea-table, except in cold weather. We think, in a summer
+afternoon, they can be easily dispensed with, and that ladies might be
+satisfied with sweet cakes, fruit, preserves, and other things more
+delicate, and more suited to the hour, than the hot preparations they
+sometimes call for; and which, by not seeing them on the table, they may
+be assured do not come within scope of the tea-arrangements. It is
+expecting too much to suppose the cook will be willing to mix
+batter-cakes and bake them, or to scorch over the fire with broiling or
+stewing relishes, in a warm summer evening--or even to make toast,
+except for an invalid. Also, every one should know that a substantial
+meal (including tea and coffee) can generally be had at the nine o'clock
+supper-table. In houses where there is no nine o'clock supper, the
+tea-table is set out with greater profusion and variety.
+
+At hotels, the interval between dinner and tea is usually short; the
+tea-hour being early, that the guests may have ample time to prepare for
+going to places of amusement. Yet there are ladies who, though spending
+all the evening at home, will remain sitting idly in the parlour till
+eight o'clock, (or later still,) keeping the table standing and servants
+waiting in attendance, that they may have a better appetite, and be able
+to make a heartier meal at their tea. This is selfish and inconsiderate,
+particularly as they might easily wait a little longer, and take their
+tea or coffee at the supper-table. Their appetites would then be still
+better. The servants certainly require rest, and should be exempt from
+all attendance in the ladies' eating-room, for an hour or two in the
+evening.
+
+No lady can remain long in the drawing-room talking to a gentleman
+after all the rest have retired for the night, without subjecting
+herself to remarks which it would greatly annoy her to hear--whether
+merited or not. Neither is it well for her to be seen continually
+sitting at the same window with the same gentleman.
+
+Ladies and gentlemen who wish to hold private dialogues, should not for
+that purpose monopolize a centre-table; thereby preventing persons who
+wish to read from availing themselves of the light of the chandelier
+above it. Lovers who have proper consideration, (a rare occurrence,)
+always sit as far as possible from the rest of the company, and so they
+should--unless they can bring themselves to join in general
+conversation. That is, if the lovership is real. In many cases the
+semblance is only assumed to produce effect, and the talk has really
+nothing secret or mysterious about it, and might just as well be uttered
+audibly.
+
+In making acquaintance with a stranger at a hotel, there is no
+impropriety (but quite the contrary) in enquiring of her from what place
+she comes. In introducing yourself give your name _audibly_; or what is
+still better, if you have a card about you, present that; and she should
+do the same in return. Before you enter into conversation on any subject
+connected with religion, it will be well to ask her to what church she
+belongs. This knowledge will guard you from indulging, inadvertently, in
+sectarian remarks which may be displeasing to her, besides producing a
+controversy which may be carried too far, and produce ill-feeling
+between the parties. We have known the mere question, "Have you been to
+church to-day?" when asked of a stranger at a Sunday dinner-table, bring
+on a dialogue of great asperity, and very annoying to the hearers. As it
+cannot possibly concern yourself whether the strangers at a hotel have
+been to church or not, or what church they have visited, omit
+catechising them at table on this or any other religious subject. We
+have never known a clergyman guilty of this solecism in good sense and
+good manners.
+
+When you give a gratuity to a servant--for instance, to the man who
+waits on you at table, or he that attends your room, or to the
+chambermaid or the errand-boy--give it at no regular time, but whenever
+you think proper, or find it convenient. It is injudicious to allow them
+to suppose that they are to do you no particular service without being
+immediately paid for it. It renders them mercenary, rapacious, and
+neglectful of other boarders who are less profuse; not reflecting that
+the servants are hired to wait on the company, and are paid wages for
+doing so, by the proprietor of the establishment, and that it is
+therefore their duty to him, and to his guests, to exert themselves so
+to give satisfaction. Still, it is right and customary to pay them extra
+for conveying your baggage up and down stairs when you are departing
+from the house or returning to it. Carrying heavy baggage is very hard
+work even for strong men. If you are a permanent boarder, and from
+ill-health require extra attendance, it is well to give a certain sum
+monthly to each of the servants who wait upon you; and then they will
+not expect any thing more, except on extraordinary occasions. And to
+each of them, separately, give the money with your own hand. In short,
+whatever you give to any one, (servants or others,) it is safest, when
+convenient, to bestow it in person. There will then be no mistakes, no
+forgettings, and no temptation to embezzlement.
+
+If you live in Philadelphia, you will find it very convenient, in most
+cases, to send messages by a note with a stamp on it, put into the
+city-post. There is a mail-bag and a letter-box at all hotels, and at
+most of the large boarding-houses. The errand-boy of the hotel carries
+parcels, and takes such messages as require an _immediate_ answer. For a
+distance of any consequence, he will expect from twelve to twenty-five
+cents. For little errands in the immediate neighbourhood, less will
+suffice. When a servant brings you small change, do not tell him to keep
+it. It is giving him the bad habit of expecting it always; and at times
+when you may have occasion, yourself, for that very change. It is the
+worst way of feeing them. On leaving the house, and at Christmas, it is
+customary to give a fee rather larger than usual, to the servants who
+have been your attendants. But as we have said before, give it with your
+own hands.
+
+It is ungenerous and most unjustifiable to bribe the servants to neglect
+other boarders, (whose place is near yours,) for the purpose of their
+bestowing on you a double share of attention. It is taking an undue
+advantage, which in the end will come out badly.
+
+All persons who go to hotels are not able to lavish large and frequent
+gratuities on the servants. But all, for the price they pay to the
+proprietor, are entitled to an ample share of attention from the
+domestics.
+
+It is very mean and unlady-like to gossip secretly with the servants,
+and question them about any of the other guests. Still worse, to repeat
+what they tell you, and give _them_ as authority. Treat them always with
+kindness and civility, but have no confidential and familiar intercourse
+with them. To those you know, it is but common civility to bid good
+morning every day. Coloured people you may always gratify by saying a
+few words to them, now and then, in passing. They value this little
+kindness, and will not presume upon it like those from "the old
+country," who, if treated familiarly, will frequently take liberties,
+and lose all respect for you. Elderly coloured people, (particularly in
+the South,) like much to be called "aunt" or "uncle;" and it degrades no
+white lady to please them by doing so.
+
+In all hotels, it is against the rule to take out of the ladies'
+drawing-room any books that may be placed there for the general
+convenience of the company, such as dictionaries, guide-books,
+directories, magazines, &c. If you borrow a file of newspapers from the
+reading-room, get done with them as soon as you can, lest they should be
+wanted there by the gentlemen; and as soon as you have finished, ring
+for a servant to carry them back.
+
+Be careful, in cold weather, always to shut the parlour-doors after
+you. If you think the room too warm, do not throw open either door or
+window, without first enquiring if it will cause inconvenience to any
+one present. It is a good practice to carry a pocket fan even in winter,
+in case you should chance to feel the heat more sensibly than any other
+lady in the room. If the heat of the grate causes you inconvenience,
+enquire if there is any objection to having the blower brought in and
+stood up before it. If not, ring the bell and order it.
+
+If you have an anthracite fire in your chamber, and wish to extinguish
+it on retiring for the night, take the tongs, and lifting off some of
+the largest coals from the top, lay them beneath the grate. Then, with
+the shut-tongs or the poker, make a deep hollow in the centre of the
+fire; raking it into two hills, one on each side, leaving a valley down
+in the middle. It will begin to blacken immediately, and go out in a few
+minutes. If you cannot do this yourself, ring for a servant.
+
+This is _the only way_ to put out an anthracite fire, whether in a grate
+or a stove.--There is no other. Try it.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[12] A whisperer usually betrays herself by unconsciously fixing her
+eyes on the person she is secretly talking of. If you wish to inform
+your neighbour that a distinguished person is present say softly, "Mr.
+C. is here, but do not look at him just now."
+
+[13] It is, however, customary in eating sweet potatoes of a large size,
+to break them in two, and taking a piece in your hand, to pierce down to
+the bottom with your fork, and then mix in some butter, continuing to
+hold it thus while eating it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+SHIP-BOARD.
+
+
+There are few places where the looks and manners of the company are more
+minutely scanned than on ship-board; and few where the agreeability of a
+lady will be more highly appreciated. There is little or no variety of
+objects to attract attention. The passengers are brought so closely into
+contact with each other, and confined to so small a neighbourhood, or
+rather so many neighbours are crowded into so small a space, that all
+their sayings and doings are noticed with unusual attention, by those
+who are well enough to regard any thing but themselves. Sea-sickness is
+a very selfish malady,--and no wonder that it is so. Fortunately it is
+less prevalent than formerly, thanks to the improvements in cabin-room,
+ventilation, lodging, food, and many other things connected with
+ocean-travelling. A lady who is not of a bilious or dyspeptic habit, and
+who has taken precautionary medicine a few days before commencing the
+voyage, frequently escapes sea-sickness altogether; or at least gets
+well after the first day or two.
+
+It is best not to be over-officious in offering your aid to the sick
+ladies, unless they are your intimate friends. The stewardess of a
+packet-ship is generally all-sufficient; and much more capable of
+attending to their wants than you can be. Sea-sickness renders its
+victims very querulous; and few like to be continually reminded of their
+condition by enquiries too often repeated of--"How do you find yourself
+now?" "Do you feel any better?" or, "Do you think you could not eat
+something?" To one very much prostrated by the effects of the
+sea-motion, the mere replying to these questions is an additional
+misery. Whatever sympathy you may feel, at the time, for those afflicted
+with the marine malady, remember that it is a disorder which never
+kills, but very frequently cures.
+
+If you are sick yourself, say as little about it as possible. And never
+allude to it at table, where you will receive little sympathy, and
+perhaps render yourself disgusting to all who hear you. At no time talk
+about it to gentlemen. Many foolish common-place sayings are uttered by
+ladies who attempt to describe the horrors of sea-sickness. For instance
+this--"I felt all the time as if I wished somebody to take me up, and
+throw me overboard." This is untrue--no human being ever really _did_
+prefer drowning to sea-sickness.
+
+When the ship is actually in danger, this malady is always frightened
+away; the feelings of the mind entirely overpowering those of the body.
+
+Try to avoid supposing that every fresh gale is a violent storm; but
+confide in the excellence of the ship, and the skill of its navigators.
+Yet, though not afraid yourself, remember that others may be so, and do
+not try to show your courage by indulging in undue gayety. Mirth is out
+of place when the sky is overcast with gloom, the wind blowing hard, and
+the waves "running mountains high," and foaming and roaring all round
+the vessel.
+
+If there is truly a violent tempest, and if the danger is real and
+imminent, trust to that Almighty Power who is with you always,--on the
+sea, and on the land; and silently and fervently implore his protection.
+
+No captain likes to be teazed with importunities concerning the probable
+length of the passage. You may be sure he will do all he can to make it
+as short as possible. In rough weather, refrain from asking, whenever
+you see him, "If there is any danger?" If there really is, he will
+certainly let you know it in time.
+
+Endeavour to live harmoniously with your fellow-passengers. Avoid such
+national allusions as may give offence to the foreigners. If you find
+that any of them are in the frequent practice of sneering at your own
+country, or speaking of it disrespectfully, repress your resentment,
+resort to no recrimination, but refrain from further conversation with
+that individual, and leave him to the gentlemen. If a female foreigner
+is in the habit of gratuitously abusing America, endeavour calmly to
+convince her that her ideas of your country are erroneous. If she will
+not be convinced, (as is most likely, if she is an _ungenteel_
+Englishwoman,) give up the attempt, and leave her to herself. If you
+have a taste for the ridiculous, you will regard her prejudices and the
+expression of them only as objects of amusement.
+
+Avoid all arguments with a woman of irritable disposition, lest you are
+drawn in yourself to defend your opinion too warmly. You will soon find
+whether or not you can convince her, or whether she is likely to
+convince you. And it is worse than useless for both to continue
+protracting the argument, when they know that the opinion of neither
+will be shaken. Also, it is foolish to keep on repeating the same ideas,
+with no change but in a few of the words.
+
+Long and turbulent discussions are peculiarly annoying on ship-board,
+particularly in rainy weather, when for the weary and pent-up audience,
+"there's no door to creep out."
+
+It is certainly advisable for every lady on ship-board to endeavour to
+make herself as agreeable as she can, and not to suppose that all her
+"whims and oddities" will be excused because she is suffering "the pains
+and penalties" of the sea, and is therefore not "a responsible being."
+If free from sickness, a lady may propose or promote many pleasant
+little amusements and occupations; such as playing children's games on
+deck, or taking a part in chess, chequers, and backgammon in the cabin.
+Ladies sometimes form a regular little coterie, for assembling at
+certain hours, and employing themselves in knitting, bead-work,
+light-sewing, &c. while a gentleman reads aloud to them in some
+entertaining book. In the evening, vocal concerts will be an agreeable
+variety, as there are always some persons on board who can sing. And
+when the weather is fine, and the ship steadily laying her course, a
+moonlight dance on deck is delightful.
+
+A young lady should improve the opportunity of learning the names of the
+principal parts of the ship. It is a silly boast at the end of the
+voyage, (and yet we have heard such boasts,) to say that you do not know
+the fore-mast from the main-mast; and that you have no idea where the
+mizen-mast is, much less the bow-sprit. And even if a fair damsel should
+be able to distinguish the fore-topsail from the jib, and to know even
+the flying-jib, and have learnt the difference between the compass and
+the quadrant, and the log-line and the lead-line, we opine that "the
+gentlemen" will think none the worse of her; to say nothing of the
+satisfaction it will afford herself to listen with some comprehension to
+talk concerning the ship, and to read understandingly a few of the
+numerous excellent novels that treat of "life on the ocean wave."
+
+If you have, unfortunately, the rude and unamiable habit of laughing
+whenever you see any one get a fall, leave it off when on
+ship-board,--where falls are of continual occurrence from the rolling of
+the vessel, and the steepness of the stairs. We never could tell why a
+fall, even on the ice, should be regarded as a subject of mirth, when
+the chance is that it may produce a serious hurt, and is always attended
+with some pain or some annoyance at least. Low-bred women always say
+they cannot help laughing at such sights. We think _ladies_ ought always
+to help it, and hasten at once to the relief of the sufferer, to
+ascertain if they are hurt.
+
+Be washed and dressed _neatly_ every day. This can generally be managed
+with the assistance of the female servants--even if you _are_ sick.
+
+A piano never sounds well on ship-board--the cabins are too small, and
+the ceilings too low. To the sick and nervous, (and all who are sea-sick
+become _very_ nervous,) this instrument is peculiarly annoying.
+Therefore be kind enough to spare them the annoyance. You can practise
+when the weather is fine; and the invalids are on deck. Pianos have been
+abolished in many of the finest ships. Such instruments as can be
+carried on deck, and played in the open air, are, on the contrary, very
+delightful at sea, when in the hands of good performers--particularly on
+a moonlight evening.
+
+In going to England, take with you no American reprints of English
+books, unless you intend leaving them on board the ship. If you attempt
+to land them, they will be seized at the custom-house. American books by
+American authors are _not_ prohibited.
+
+Make no attempt to smuggle any thing. You may be detected and disgraced.
+The risk is too great, and the advantage too little.
+
+When you leave your state-room to sit in the ladies' cabin, do not fall
+to relating the particulars of your sickness, or complaining of the
+smallness of your apartment, the rolling of the ship, or the roughness
+of the waves. These inconveniences are unavoidable, and must always be
+expected in a sea-voyage; and talking about them too much seems to
+magnify their evils.
+
+If there is any deficiency in accommodations or attentions, either try
+as well as you can to do without them, or in a kind and considerate
+manner endeavour to obtain them of the servants, if not too
+inconvenient, or against the ship's regulations.
+
+It is very inconsiderate to have things cooked at luncheon time
+purposely for yourself. Ladies who are quite well will sometimes order
+baked apples, stewed prunes, buttered toast, arrow-root, cups of tea or
+coffee, &c.,--notwithstanding that the lunch-table is always profusely
+spread with a variety of cold articles; and that when dinner is cooking
+at the same time, the small size of the kitchen renders any extra
+preparations very inconvenient to the preparers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+LETTERS.
+
+
+The practice of enclosing letters in envelopes is now universal;
+particularly as when the letter is single no additional postage is
+charged for the cover. The postage now is in almost every instance
+pre-paid, it being but three cents when paid by the writer, and five if
+left to the receiver. Therefore, none but very poor or very mean people
+send unpaid letters. Letter-stamps for the United States post should be
+kept in a little box on your writing-table. You can get them always by
+sending to the post-office--from a dollar's worth or more, down to fifty
+or twenty-five cents' worth, at a time. In a second box, keep stamps for
+the city or penny post, which transmits notes from one part of the town
+to another. And in a third, stamps to go on the covers of newspapers.
+
+Sealing with wax is found to be very insecure for letters that are
+carried by steamers into warm climates--the wax melting with the heat,
+and sticking the letters to each other, so that they cannot be separated
+without tearing. Wafers are better.
+
+It would be very convenient to use the post-office stamp as a seal, but
+the clerks in that establishment charge extra postage for the trouble of
+turning the letter to mark the stamp. This subjects the receiver to the
+payment of two additional cents.
+
+In writing upon business exclusively your own, for instance to make a
+request, to ask for information, to petition for a favour, or to solicit
+an autograph, it is but right not only to pay the postage of your own
+letter, but to enclose a stamp for the answer. This is always done by
+really polite and considerate people. You have no right, when the
+benefit is entirely your own, to cause any extra expense to the receiver
+of the letter--not even the cost of three cents to pay the postage back
+again. It is enough to tax their time by requiring them to write to you
+and send off the reply. Also, in corresponding with a relative, or very
+intimate friend, to whom even a small expense is of more importance than
+to yourself, you may enclose a stamp for the answer. Do so always in
+writing to poor people. Be careful not to allow yourself to get entirely
+out of post-office stamps. Replenish your stock in time. If the gum on
+the back seems too weak, go over it afresh with that excellent cement,
+"Perpetual Paste." Embossed or bordered envelopes are not often used
+except in notes of ceremony--or when the acquaintance is slight. The
+same with ornamented note-paper. Intimate friends and relatives use
+paper that is handsome, but plain. Letters of business are generally
+enclosed in yellow or buff-coloured envelopes. Some of these yellow
+envelopes are large enough to contain a folio sheet when folded. Notes
+_not_ to be sent by post, are usually sealed with wax--the seal very
+small. But a _small_ wafer is admissible--a white one looks best for a
+note. In folding your note or letter, see that it is not too large to go
+into the envelope. It is customary to write the direction on the
+envelope only. Nevertheless, if the letter is to go a long distance by
+post, the envelope may be worn off, or torn off accidentally, or get so
+damaged in the letter-bag as to be rendered illegible. The surest and
+safest way is to put the address on the letter also; or if the sheet is
+full, to find a corner for the direction, either at the beginning or
+end.
+
+We have seen no _good_ letter-paper at less price than twenty-five cents
+per quire; and for that it ought to be _very_ good. If of lower cost,
+you may find it soft and fuzzy, so that the pen will not move freely,
+(the nib wearing out directly,) or so thin that you cannot write on both
+sides of the sheet. In paper, as in most other things, the best is the
+cheapest. If the tint is bluish, the writing will not be so legible as
+on a pure white. The surface should be smooth and glossy. For letter
+writing _ruled_ paper is rarely used, except by children. In writing for
+the press, no other is so convenient. A page of ruled lines to slip
+beneath, is indispensable to those who cannot otherwise write straight.
+They are to be had for a few cents at every stationer's. It is well to
+get three different sizes. If you write a small hand, the lines should
+be closer together than if your writing is large. If you are addressing
+a friend and have much to say, and expect to fill the sheet, begin very
+near the top of the first page. But if your letter is to be a short one,
+commence lower down, several inches from the top. If a _very_ short
+letter of only a few lines, begin but a little above the middle of the
+page. Crossing a letter all over with transverse lines is obsolete. It
+is intolerable to read, and there is no excuse for it now, when postage
+is so low, and every body pays their own.
+
+Write the date near the right-hand side of the first page, and place it
+about two lines higher than the two or three words of greeting or
+accosting with which letters usually commence. Begin the first sentence
+a little below those words, and farther toward the right than the lines
+that are to follow. It is well in dating _every_ letter to give always
+your exact residence--that is, not only the town you live in, but the
+number and street. If your correspondent has had _but one_ notification
+of your present place of abode, she may have forgotten the number, and
+even the street. Your letter containing it may not be at hand as a
+reference, and the answer may, in consequence, be misdirected--or
+directed in so vague a manner that it will never reach you. We have
+known much inconvenience (and indeed loss) ensue from not specifying
+with the date of _each_ letter the exact dwelling-place of the writer.
+But if it is _always_ indicated at the top of _every one_, a reference
+to _any_ one of your letters will furnish your proper address. If you
+are in the country, where there are no streets or numbered houses, give
+the name of the estate and that of the nearest post-town; also the
+county and state. All this will occupy a long line, but you will find
+the advantage. If your letter fills more than one sheet, number each
+page. Should you have no envelope, leave, on the inside of the third
+page, two blank spaces where the seal is to come. These spaces should be
+left rather too large than too small. Lest you should tear the letter in
+_breaking_ it open, it is best to _cut_ round the seal. We have seen
+letters that were actually illegible from the paleness of the ink. If
+you write from your own house this is inexcusable, as you ought always
+to be _well_ supplied with that indispensable article; and in a city you
+can easily send to a stationer's and buy it. It is still better to make
+it yourself; than which nothing is more easy. The following receipt _we
+know, by experience, to be superlative_. Try it.
+
+Buy at a druggist's four ounces of the best blue Aleppo nut-galls; half
+an ounce of green copperas; and half an ounce of clean, white
+gum-arabic. These three articles must be pulverized in a mortar. Put
+them into a large, clean, white-ware pitcher, and pour on a quart of
+boiling water. Stir the whole with a stick that will reach to the
+bottom, and set the pitcher in a warm place; covering it lightly with a
+folded newspaper. In about an hour, stir it again very hard; and repeat
+the stirring several times during the day. Let it remain in the pitcher
+several days, or a week, till it becomes an excellent black; the
+blackening will be accelerated by keeping the pitcher in the sun; for
+instance, in a sunny balcony. Stir it, down to the bottom, two or three
+times a day--always with a stick. Use nothing of metal in making this
+ink. When it is very black, and writes well, pour it off carefully from
+the bottom, (which must have rested undisturbed for two or three hours
+previous,) passing it through a funnel into pint-bottles. Before you
+cork them, put into each a large tea-spoonful of brandy, to prevent
+moulding, or a few drops of lavender. A small tea-spoonful of cloves,
+(slightly broken,) placed in the bottom of each bottle, before the ink
+is poured in, will answer the same purpose. Scouring the pitcher with
+soap and sand, after throwing away the dregs of the ink, will completely
+clear off the stains.
+
+Ink-stands should be washed out, before they are filled anew.
+
+There is no ink superior to this in blackness or smoothness. You can
+make it at less than half the cost of that which you buy in the shops.
+It looks blacker the next day after using, and never fades. If it
+becomes rather too thick, dilute it slightly with water, and stir it
+down to the bottom.
+
+Never use _blue_ ink. If the letter chances to get wet, the writing will
+be effaced. Serious losses have resulted from business letters being
+written in blue ink.
+
+If you make a mistake in a word, draw your pen through it, or score it
+so as to be quite illegible, and then interline the correction, placing
+a caret beneath. This will be better than scratching out the error with
+your penknife, and afterward trying to write a new word in the identical
+place; an attempt which rarely succeeds, even with the aid of
+pounce-powder, which is pulverized gum-sandarac.
+
+At the end of the letter, somewhat lower than your signature, (which
+should be very near the right-hand edge of the page,) add the name and
+address of the person for whom the letter is designed, and to whom it
+will thus find its way, even if the envelope should be defaced, or torn
+off and lost. Write your own name rather larger than your usual hand,
+and put a dot or dash after it.
+
+Some of the ensuing paragraphs are taken (with permission of the
+publisher) from a former work of the author's.
+
+In folding a letter, let the breadth (from left to right) far exceed the
+height. A letter folded tall is ridiculous, and one verging towards
+squareness looks very awkward. It is well to use a folder (or
+paper-knife) to press along the edges of the folds, that they may be
+smooth and straight. If one is looser than another, or if there is the
+slightest narrowing in, or widening out, toward the edge of the
+turn-over, the letter will have an irregular, unsightly appearance.
+Pieces of ruled lines may be so cut that you can slip them under the
+back of a letter after it is folded, and then you will be in no danger
+of writing the direction crooked, or uneven.
+
+Write the name of your correspondent about the middle of the back, and
+very clearly and distinctly. Then give the number and street on the next
+line, a little nearer to the right. Then the town in _large_ letters,
+extending still nearer to the right. If a country-town, give next (in
+letters a little smaller) the name of the _county_ in which it is
+situated. This is very necessary, as in some of our states there is more
+than one town of the same name, and "Washingtons" all over the Union.
+Lastly, at the very bottom, and close to the right, indicate the state
+or district by its usual abbreviation,--for instance, _Me._ for
+Maine[14]--_N. H._ New Hampshire--_Vt._ Vermont--_Mass._
+Massachusetts--_R. I._ Rhode Island--_Ct._ or _Conn._ Connecticut--_N.
+Y._ New York--_N. J._ New Jersey--_Pa._ or _Penna._ Pennsylvania--_Del._
+Delaware--_Md._ Maryland--_Va._ Virginia--_N. C._ North Carolina--_S.
+C._ South Carolina--_Ga._ or _Geo._ Georgia--_Ala._ Alabama--_Miss._
+Mississippi--_Mo._ Missouri--_La._ Louisiana--_Tenn._ Tennessee--_Ky._
+Kentucky--_O._ Ohio--_Ind._ Indiana--_Ill._ Illinois--_Mich._
+Michigan--_Ark._ Arkansas--_Wis._ Wisconsin--_Io._ Iowa--_Tex._
+Texas--_Flo._ Florida--_Cal._ California--_Or._ Oregon--_Minn._
+Minnesota--_Utah_--_D. C._ District of Columbia.
+
+To these may be added the abbreviations of the British possessions in
+North America: _U. C._ Upper Canada--_L. C._ Lower Canada--_N. S._ Nova
+Scotia--_N. B._ New Brunswick--_N. P._ New Providence.
+
+In directing a letter to a foreign country, give the whole name, as
+France, Spain, Belgium, England, Ireland, Scotland, &c. We have towns in
+America called after all manner of European towns. For instance, a
+letter directed to our Havre-de-Grace, might, if Maryland was not
+designated, find its way to Havre-de-Grace in France; Rome in the state
+of New York might be taken to Rome in Italy,--York in Pennsylvania to
+York in England, &c. We know an instance of a gentleman directing an
+important letter to Boston, and, forgetting to add _Mass._ (for
+Massachusetts) at the bottom, the letter actually went from Philadelphia
+to the small town of Boston in Lincolnshire, England. In writing _from_
+Europe, finish the direction with the words _United States of North
+America_.
+
+When you send a letter by a private opportunity, (a thing which is
+already almost obsolete since the days of cheap postage,) it will be
+sufficient to introduce very near the lower edge of the left-hand corner
+of the back, simply the name of the gentleman who carries it, written
+small. It is now considered old-fashioned to insert on the back of such
+a letter--"Politeness of Mr. Smith"--"Favoured by Mr. Jones"--"Honoured
+by Mr. Brown." If the letter is to cross the sea, by mail or otherwise,
+write the name of the vessel on the left-hand corner of the outside.
+
+When a letter is to go to New York city, always put the words New York
+_in full_, (and not N. Y.), written large. Much confusion is caused by
+the name of this state and its metropolis being the same. It has been
+well-suggested that the name of the state of New York should be changed
+to Ontario--a beautiful change. In directing to any of the towns in the
+state of New York, then put N. Y. after the name of the town, as Hudson,
+N. Y.,--Syracuse, N. Y., &c.
+
+In sending a letter to the metropolis of the Union, direct for
+Washington, D. C.
+
+In directing to a clergyman, put _Rev._ (Reverend) before his name. If a
+bishop, _Right Reverend_. To an officer, immediately after his name put
+U. S. A. for United States Army, or U. S. N. for United States
+Navy--having preceded his name with _Gen._, _Col._, _Capt._, _Lieut._,
+according to his rank.
+
+The title Hon. (Honourable) is always used in directing to a member of
+congress, a member of the cabinet, a judge of the supreme court, an
+ambassador, or the governor of a state. For the Chief Magistrate of the
+Union, you may direct simply to the President of the United States. The
+term "Excellency" is now but little used.
+
+For a gentleman holding a professorship in a university, preface his
+name with _Prof._ or _Professor_. The title of "Professor" does not
+really belong to all men who teach any thing, or to every man that
+exhibits a show--or to mesmerists, and spiritual knockers. Do not give
+it to them.
+
+For sealing letters no light is so convenient as a wax taper in a low
+stand. A lamp, or candle, may smoke or blacken the wax. To seal well,
+your wax should be of the finest quality. Red wax of a bright scarlet
+colour is the best. Low-priced wax consumes very fast; and when melted,
+looks purplish or brownish. When going to melt sealing-wax, rest your
+elbow on the table to keep your hand steady. Take the stick of wax
+between your thumb and finger, and hold it a little above the light, so
+that it barely touches the point of the flame. Turn the stick round
+till it is equally softened on all sides. Then insert a little of the
+melted wax _under_ the turn-over part of the letter, just where the seal
+is to come. This will render it more secure than if the sole dependence
+was on the outside seal. Or instead of this little touch of wax, you may
+slip beneath the turn-over a small wafer, either white or of the same
+colour as the wax. Then begin at the outer edge of the place you intend
+for the seal; and move the wax in a circle, which must gradually
+diminish till it terminates in the centre. Put the seal exactly to the
+middle of the soft wax, and press it down hard, but do not screw it
+round. Then withdraw it suddenly. Do not use motto seals unless writing
+to a member of your own family, or to an intimate friend. For common
+service, (and particularly for letters of business,) a plain seal, with
+simply your initials, is best.
+
+For a note always use a very small seal. In addressing one of your own
+family, it is not necessary to follow scrupulously all these
+observances. In writing to persons decidedly your inferiors in station,
+avoid the probability of mortifying them by sending mean, ill-looking
+notes.
+
+Remember also (what, strange to say, some people calling themselves
+ladies seem not to know) that a note commenced in the first person must
+continue in the first person all through. The same when it begins in the
+third person. We have heard of invitations to a party being worded
+thus:--
+
+     Mrs. Welford's compliments to Mrs. Marley, and requests the
+     pleasure of her company on Thursday evening.
+
+              Yours sincerely,
+
+                                E. WELFORD.
+
+Notes of invitation should always designate both the day of the week and
+that of the month. If that of _the month only_ is specified, one figure
+may perhaps be mistaken for another; for instance, the 13th may look
+like the 18th, or the 25th like the 26th. We know instances where, from
+this cause, some of the guests did not come till the night _after_ the
+party.
+
+There are some very sensible people who, in their invitations, tell
+frankly what is to be expected, and if they really ask but _a few_
+friends, they at once give the names of those friends, so that you may
+know whom you are to see. If you are to meet no more than can sit round
+the tea-table, they signify the same. If they expect twenty, thirty, or
+forty persons, they say so--and do not leave you in doubt whether to
+dress for something very like a party, or for a mere family
+tea-drinking.
+
+If it is a decided music-party, by all means specify the same, that
+those who have no enjoyment of what is considered fashionable music, may
+stay away.
+
+Always reply to a note of invitation the day after you have received it.
+To a note on business send an answer the same day. After accepting an
+invitation, should any thing occur to prevent your going, send a second
+note in due time.
+
+Do not take offence at a friend because she does not invite you every
+time she has company. Her regard for you may be as warm as ever, but it
+is probably inconvenient for her to have more than a certain number at a
+time. Believe that the omission is no evidence of neglect, or of a
+desire to offend you; but rest assured that you are to be invited on
+other occasions. If you are _not_, then indeed you may take it as a hint
+that she is no longer desirous of continuing the acquaintance. Be
+dignified enough not to call her to account; but cease visiting her,
+without taking her to task and bringing on a quarrel. But if you _must_
+quarrel, let it not be in writing. A paper war is always carried too
+far, and produces bitterness of feeling which is seldom entirely
+eradicated, even after apologies have been made and accepted. Still,
+when an offence has been given in writing, the atonement should be made
+in writing also.
+
+Much time is wasted (particularly by young ladies) in writing and
+answering such epistles as are termed "letters of friendship,"--meaning
+long documents (frequently with crossed lines) filled with regrets at
+absence, asseverations of eternal affection, modest deprecations of your
+humble self, and enthusiastic glorifyings of your exalted correspondent;
+or else wonderments at both of you being so much alike, and so very
+congenial; and anticipations of rapture at meeting again, and
+lamentations at the slow progress of time, till the extatic hour of
+re-union shall arrive--the _postscript_ usually containing some
+confidential allusion to a lover, (either real or supposed,) and
+perhaps a kind enquiry about a real or supposed lover of your friend's.
+
+Now such letters as these are of no manner of use but to foster a
+sickly, morbid feeling, (very often a fictitious one,) and to encourage
+nonsense, and destroy all relish for such true friendship as is good and
+wholesome.
+
+A still worse species of voluminous female correspondence is that which
+turns _entirely_ upon love, or rather on what are called "beaux;" or
+entirely on hate--for instance, hatred of step-mothers. This topic is
+considered the more _piquant_ from its impropriety, and from its being
+carried on in secret.
+
+Then there are young ladies born with the organ of letter-writing
+amazingly developed, and increased by perpetual practice, who can
+scarcely become acquainted with a gentleman possessing brains, without
+volunteering a correspondence with him. And then ensues a long
+epistolary dialogue about nothing, or at least nothing worth reading or
+remembering; trenching closely on gallantry, but still not quite _that_;
+affected flippancy on the part of the lady; and unaffected impertinence
+on that of the gentleman, "which serves her right"--alternating with
+pretended poutings on her side, and half or whole-laughing apologies on
+his. Sometimes there are attempts at moralizing, or criticising, or
+sentimentalizing--but nothing is ever elicited that, to a third person,
+can afford the least amusement or improvement, or excite the least
+interest. Yet, strange to say, gentlemen have been inveigled into this
+sort of correspondence, even by ladies who have made a business of
+afterward selling the letters for publication, and making money out of
+them. And such epistles have actually been printed. We do not suppose
+they have been read. The public is very stubborn in refusing to read
+what neither amuses, interests, or improves--even when a publisher is
+actually so weak as to print such things.
+
+No young lady ever engages in a correspondence with a gentleman that is
+neither her relative or her betrothed, without eventually lessening
+herself in his eyes. Of this she may rest assured. With some men, it is
+even dangerous for a lady to write a note on the commonest subject. He
+may show the superscription, or the signature, or both, to his idle
+companions, and make insinuations much to her disadvantage, which his
+comrades will be sure to circulate and exaggerate.
+
+Above all, let no lady correspond with a married man, unless she is
+obliged to consult him on business; and from that plain, straight path
+let her not diverge. Even if the wife sees and reads every letter, she
+will, in all probability, feel a touch of jealousy, (or more than a
+touch,) if she finds that they excite interest in her husband, or give
+him pleasure. This will inevitably be the case if the married lady is
+inferior in intellect to the single one, and has a lurking consciousness
+that she is so.
+
+Having hinted what the correspondence of young ladies ought _not_ to be,
+we will try to convey some idea of what it ought. Let us premise that
+there is no danger of _any_ errors in grammar or spelling, and but few
+faults of punctuation, and that the fair writers are aware that a
+sentence should always conclude with a period or full stop, to be
+followed by a capital letter beginning the next sentence; and that a new
+paragraph should be allotted to every change of subject, provided that
+there is room on the sheet of paper. And still, it is well to have
+always at hand a dictionary and a grammar, in case of unaccountable
+lapses of memory. However, persons who have read much, and read to
+advantage, generally find themselves at no loss in orthography, grammar,
+and punctuation. To spell badly is disgraceful in a lady or gentleman,
+and it looks as if they had quitted reading as soon as they quitted
+school.
+
+To write a legible and handsome hand is an accomplishment not
+sufficiently valued. And yet of what importance it is! We are always
+vexed when we hear people of talent making a sort of boast of the
+illegibility of their writing, and relating anecdotes of the difficulty
+with which it has been read, and the mistakes made by its decipherers.
+There are persons who affect bad writing, and boast of it, because the
+worst signatures extant are those of Shakspeare, Bonaparte, and Byron.
+These men were great in spite of their autographs, not because of them.
+The caliph Haroun Alraschid, who was well imbued with Arabic learning,
+sent an elegantly written letter to Charlemagne, with a splendid cover
+and seals; not being aware that the European emperor's signature was
+made by dipping his thumb into the ink and giving a smear--sealing with
+the hilt of his dagger.
+
+The "wording" of your letter should be as much like conversation as
+possible, containing (in a condensed form) just what you would be most
+likely to talk about if you saw your friend. A letter is of no use
+unless it conveys some information, excites some interest, or affords
+some improvement. It may be handsomely written, correct in spelling,
+punctuation, and grammar, and yet stiff and formal in style--affectedly
+didactic, and therefore tiresome--or mawkishly sentimental, and
+therefore foolish. It may be refined, or high-flown in words, but flat
+and barren in ideas, containing nothing that a correspondent cares to
+know.
+
+Read over each page of your letter, as you finish it, to see that there
+are no errors. If you find any, correct them carefully. In writing a
+familiar letter, a very common fault is tautology, or a too frequent
+repetition of the same word--for instance, "Yesterday I received a
+letter from sister Mary, which was the first letter I have received from
+sister since she left." The sentence should be, "Yesterday I received a
+letter from my sister Mary, the first since she left us."
+
+Unless you are writing to one of your own family, put always the pronoun
+"_my_" before the word "sister." Say also--"my father," "my mother," and
+not "father," "mother," as if they were also the parents of your
+correspondent.
+
+To end the sentence with the word "left," (for departed,) is awkward and
+unsatisfactory--for instance, "It is two days since he left." Left what?
+It is one of the absurd innovations that have crept in among us of late
+years, and are supposed to be fashionable. Another is the ridiculous way
+of omitting the possessive S in words ending with that letter; for
+instance, "Sims' Hotel" instead of "Sims's Hotel"--"Jenkins' Bakery" for
+"Jenkins's Bakery." Would any one, in talking, say they had stayed at
+Sims' Hotel, or that they bought their bread at Jenkins' Bakery. This is
+ungrammatical, as it obliterates the possessive case, and is therefore
+indefinite; and moreover, it looks and sounds awkwardly.
+
+Many persons who think themselves good grammarians put on their cards
+"The Misses Brown,"--"The Misses Smith." Those who _really_ are so,
+write "The Miss Browns"--"The Miss Smiths"--the plural being always on
+the substantive, and never on the adjective. Would we say "the whites
+glove" instead of "the white gloves"--or the "blues ribbon" for the
+"blue ribbons." Does any lady in talking say, "The two Misses Brown
+called to see me?"
+
+It is also wrong to say "two _spoons_ful," instead of two _spoon_fuls.
+Thus, "two spoonsful of milk" seems to imply two separate spoons with
+milk in each; while "two spoonfuls of milk" gives the true idea--one
+spoon twice filled.
+
+Avoid in writing, as in talking, all words that do not express the true
+meaning. We are sorry to say that sometimes even among educated people,
+when attempting smartness or wit, we find a sort of conventional slang
+that has, in truth, a strong tinge of vulgarity, being the wilful
+substitution of bad words or bad phrases for good ones. When we find
+them issuing from the lips or the pen of a _lady_, we fear she is
+unfortunate in a reprobate husband, or brother, from whom she must have
+learnt them. Yet even reprobates dislike to hear their wives and sisters
+talking coarsely.
+
+Unless you know that your correspondent is well versed in French,
+refrain from interlarding your letters with Gallic words or phrases.
+
+Do not introduce long quotations from poetry. Three or four lines of
+verse are sufficient. One line, or two, are better still. Write them
+rather smaller than your usual hand, and leave a space at the beginning
+and end; marking their commencement and termination with inverted
+commas, thus " ".
+
+One of our young relatives when seven or eight years old, tried her hand
+at story-writing. In finishing the history of a naughty girl, much
+addicted to falsehood, the terminating sentence ran thus:--
+
+"Arabella did not cure herself of this fault; but when she grew up, and
+became an authoress, she never marked her quotations."
+
+If your letter is longer than can be comprised in one sheet, number the
+pages, placing the number near the upper corner. If engaged in a regular
+correspondence on business or other things, or in writing from a foreign
+country to your family at home, number not only the pages, but the
+letter itself, putting that figure in the centre at the top of the first
+page. Thus, if your friend, having received No. 10, finds the next
+letter that comes to hand is No. 12, she will know that No. 11 is
+missing, and will tell you so in her reply. Keep a memorandum of the
+letters you have sent, that you may know how to number the next. Before
+commencing a long letter, it is well to put down on a slip of paper, a
+list of the subjects you intend to write on.
+
+Unless to persons living in the same house, do not enclose one letter in
+another. And even then, it is not always safe to do so. Let each letter
+be transmitted on its own account, by mail, with its own full direction,
+and its own post-office stamp. We know an instance where the peace of a
+family was entirely ruined by one of its members suppressing enclosed
+letters. Confide to no one the delivery of an important letter intended
+for another person. It is better to trust to the mail, and send a
+duplicate by the next post.
+
+To break the seal of a letter directed to another person is punishable
+by law. To read _secretly_ the letter of another is morally as
+felonious. A woman who would act thus meanly is worse than those who
+apply their eyes or ears to key-holes, or door-cracks, or who listen
+under windows, or look down from attics upon their neighbours; or who,
+in a dusky parlour, before the lamps are lighted, ensconce themselves in
+a corner, and give no note of their presence while listening to a
+conversation not intended for them to hear.
+
+We do not conceive that, unless he authorizes her to do so, (which he
+had best not,) a wife is justifiable in opening her husband's letters,
+or he in reading hers. Neither wife nor husband has any right to entrust
+to the other the secrets of their friends; and letters may contain such
+secrets. Unless under extraordinary circumstances, parents should not
+consider themselves privileged to inspect the correspondence of grown-up
+children. Brothers and sisters always take care that their epistles
+shall not be unceremoniously opened by each other. In short, a letter is
+the property of the person to whom it is addressed, and nobody has a
+right to read it without permission.
+
+If you are shown an autograph signature at the bottom of a letter, be
+satisfied to look at _that only_; and do not open out, and read the
+whole--unless desired.
+
+Some years ago, in one of our most popular magazines, were several pages
+containing fac-simile signatures of a number of distinguished literary
+women--chiefly English. We saw an original letter, from a lady, who
+complained that some mischievous person had taken _her_ magazine out of
+the post-office before it reached her, and shamefully _scribbled women's
+names_ in it, disfiguring it so as to render it unfit for binding;
+therefore she desired the publisher to send her a clean copy in place of
+it.
+
+In putting up packets to send away, either tie them round and across,
+with red tape, (sealing them also where the tape crosses,) or seal them
+without any tape. If the paper is strong, the wax good, and the contents
+of the parcel not too heavy, sealing will in most cases be sufficient.
+Twine or cord may cut the paper, and therefore is best omitted. Never
+put up a parcel in newspaper. It looks mean and disrespectful, and will
+soil the articles inside.
+
+Keep yourself provided with different sorts and sizes of wrapping-paper.
+
+A large packet requires more than one seal; the seals rather larger than
+for a letter.
+
+Put up newspapers, for transmission, in thin whitish or brownish paper,
+pasting the cover, and leaving one end open. Newspaper-stamps cost but
+one cent, and are indispensable to the transmission of the paper.
+
+Avoid giving letters of introduction to people whose acquaintance cannot
+possibly afford any pleasure or advantage to those whose civilities are
+desired for them, or who have not leisure to attend to strangers.
+Artists, authors, and all other persons to whom "time is money," and
+whose income stops whenever their hands and eyes are unemployed, are
+peculiarly annoyed by the frequency of introductory letters, brought by
+people with whom they can feel no congeniality, and whom they never
+would have sought for. Among the children of genius, but few are in a
+situation to entertain strangers _handsomely_, as it is called, which
+means, _expensively_. Many are kept always in straitened circumstances,
+from the incessant demands on their time and attention. And in numerous
+instances, letters are asked and given with no better motive than the
+gratification of idle curiosity.
+
+We advise all persons obtaining an introductory letter to a painter, to
+ascertain, before presenting it, what branch of the art he professes. We
+have been asked whether a certain artist (one of the most distinguished
+in London) painted "figures, flowers, or landscapes." Also, no one
+should presume to request an introduction to an authoress, if they are
+ignorant whether she writes prose or verse. Not that they are expected
+to talk to her, immediately, on literary subjects. Far from it; but if
+they know nothing of her works, they deserve no letter. In America,
+books, or at least newspapers, are accessible to all who can read.
+
+Bores are peculiarly addicted to asking letters of introduction, in
+accordance with their system of "bestowing their tediousness" upon as
+many people as possible. We pity the kind friends from whom these
+missives are required, and who have not courage to refuse, or address
+enough to excuse themselves plausibly from complying.
+
+We have known instances of stupid, vulgar persons, on preparing to visit
+another city, obtaining letters to families of the really highest class,
+and receiving from them the usual civilities, which they knew not how to
+appreciate.
+
+On the other hand, how pleasant it is, by means of an introductory
+letter, to bring together two kindred spirits, whose personal
+intercourse must inevitably produce mutual satisfaction, who are glad to
+know each other, glad to meet frequently, and grateful to the friend who
+has made them acquainted.
+
+Letters of introduction should not be sealed. To do so is rude, and
+mean. If you wish to write on the same day to the same person, take
+another sheet, write as long an epistle as you please, seal it, and send
+it _by mail_.
+
+It is best to deliver an introductory letter in person, as the lady or
+gentleman whose civilities have been requested in your behalf, may thus
+be spared the trouble of calling at your lodgings, with the risk of not
+finding you at home. This is very likely to happen, if you _send_
+instead of taking it yourself. If you _do_ send it, enclose a card with
+your residence. Also, it is more respectful to go yourself, than to
+expect them to come to you.
+
+As soon as you are shown into the parlour, send up the letter, and wait
+till the receiver comes to you.
+
+When a letter is brought to you by a private hand, the usual ceremony is
+to defer reading it till the bringer has departed, unless he desires you
+to read it at once, which he will, if it is evidently a short letter. If
+a long one, request him to excuse you a moment while you look at the
+beginning, to see if your correspondent is well.
+
+On farewell cards, it is usual to write with a pencil the letters "t. t.
+l.," "to take leave"--or "p. p. c.," "pour prendre conge." A lady
+complained to us that an acquaintance of hers, about to leave town, had
+left a card for her with "p. d. a." upon it. Not understanding the
+meaning of these letters, she had applied to a friend for explanation,
+who told her they meant "poor dear adieu." "Now," continued she--"I
+cannot understand why a mere acquaintance should be so familiar as to
+call me 'poor dear;' why am I a poor dear to her?" We relieved her by
+explaining that "pour dire adieu" was French for "to bid adieu."
+
+To conclude--let nothing induce you to give a letter of introduction to
+any person whose moral character is disreputable.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[14] When the name of the state is short, you may give all the letters
+that compose it, as Maine--Ohio--Iowa--Texas--Utah.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+PRESENTS.
+
+
+Having accepted a present, it is your duty, and ought to be your
+pleasure, to let the giver see that you make use of it as intended, and
+that it is not thrown away upon you. If it is an article of dress, or of
+personal decoration, take occasion, on the first _suitable_ opportunity,
+to wear it in presence of the giver. If an ornament for the
+centre-table, or the mantel-piece, place it there. If a book, do not
+delay reading it. Afterward, speak of it to her as favourably as you
+can. If of fruit or flowers, refer to them the next time you see her.
+
+In all cases, when a gift is sent to you, return a note of thanks; or at
+least a verbal message to that effect.
+
+Never enquire of the giver what was the price of her gift, or where she
+bought it. To do so is considered exceedingly rude.
+
+When an article is presented to you for a specified purpose, it is your
+duty to use it for _that_ purpose, and for no other, according to the
+wish of the donor. It is mean and dishonourable to give away a present;
+at least without first obtaining permission from the original giver. You
+have no right to be liberal or generous at the expense of another, or to
+accept a gift with a secret determination to bestow it _yourself_ on
+somebody else. If it is an article that you do not want, that you
+possess already, or that you cannot use for yourself, it is best to say
+so candidly, at once; expressing your thanks for the offer, and
+requesting your friend to keep it for some other person to whom it will
+be advantageous. It is fit that the purchaser of the gift should have
+the pleasure of doing a kindness with her own hand, and eliciting the
+gratitude of one whom she knows herself. It is paltry in you to deprive
+her of this pleasure, by first accepting a present, and then secretly
+giving it away as from yourself.
+
+There are instances of women whose circumstances did not allow them to
+indulge often in delicacies, that on a present of early fruit, or some
+other nice thing being sent to them by a kind friend, have
+ostentatiously transferred the gift to a wealthy neighbour, with a view
+of having it supposed that they had bought it themselves, and that to
+_them_ such things were no rarities. This is contemptible--but it is
+sometimes done.
+
+Making a valuable present to a rich person is in most cases, a work of
+supererogation; unless the gift is of something rare or _unique_, which
+cannot be purchased, and which may be seen and used to more advantage at
+the house of your friend than while in your own possession. But to give
+an expensive article of dress, jewellery, or furniture to one whose
+means of buying such things are quite equal (if not superior) to your
+own, is an absurdity; though not a very uncommon one, as society is now
+constituted. Such gifts elicit no real gratitude, for in all
+probability, they may not suit the pampered taste of those to whom fine
+things are no novelties. Or they may be regarded (however unjustly) as
+baits or nets to catch, in return, something of still greater cost.
+
+There are persons, who, believing that presents are generally made with
+some mercenary view, and being unwilling themselves to receive favours,
+or incur obligations, make a point of repaying them as soon as possible,
+by a gift of something equivalent. This at once implies that they
+suspect the motive. If sincere in her friendship, the donor of the first
+present will feel hurt at being directly paid for it, and consider that
+she has been treated rudely, and unjustly. On the other hand, if
+compensation _was_ secretly desired, and really expected, she will be
+disappointed at receiving nothing in return. Therefore, we repeat, that
+among persons who can conveniently provide themselves with whatever they
+may desire, the bestowal of presents is generally a most unthankful
+business. If you are in opulent circumstances, it is best to limit your
+generosity to such friends only as do not abound in the gifts of
+fortune, and whose situation denies them the means of indulging their
+tastes. By them such acts of kindness will be duly appreciated, and
+gratefully remembered; and the article presented will have a double
+value, if it is to them a novelty.
+
+Gratitude is a very pleasant sensation, both for those who feel and to
+those who excite it. No one who confers a favour can say _with truth_,
+that "they want no thanks." They always do.
+
+We know not why, when a young lady of fortune is going to be married,
+her friends should all be expected to present her with bridal gifts. It
+is a custom that sometimes bears heavily on those whose condition allows
+them but little to spare. And from that little it may be very hard for
+them to squeeze out enough to purchase some superfluous ornament, or
+some bauble for a centre-table, when it is already glittering with the
+gifts of the opulent;--gifts lavished on one who is really in no need of
+such things; and whose marriage confers no benefit on any one but
+herself. Why should she be rewarded for gratifying her own inclination
+in marrying the man of her choice? Now that it is fashionable to display
+all the wedding-gifts arranged in due form on tables, and labelled with
+the names of the donors, the seeming necessity of giving something
+expensive, or at least elegant, has become more onerous than ever. For
+instance, poor Miss Cassin can barely afford a simple brooch that costs
+about five dollars; but she strains the utmost capacity of her slender
+purse to buy one at ten dollars, that it may not disgrace the brilliant
+assemblage of jewellery that glitters on the bridal table of her wealthy
+friend Miss Denham. And after all, she finds that her modest little
+trinket looks really contemptible beside the diamond pin given by Mrs.
+Farley the millionaire. After all, she sees no one notice it, and hears
+no one say that it is even neat and pretty. To be sure, the bride, when
+it was sent with a note on the preceding day, did vouchsafe a polite
+answer. But then, if poor Miss C. does not make a wedding present to
+rich Miss D., it might be supposed that Miss C. cannot afford it.
+Neither she can. And her making the effort elicits perhaps some
+satirical remarks, that would be very mortifying to Miss Cassin if she
+heard them.
+
+We repeat, that we cannot exactly perceive why, when the union of a
+couple of lovers, in many cases, adds to the happiness, honour, and
+glory of the married pair alone, their friends should think it a duty to
+levy on themselves these contributions; so often inconvenient to the
+givers, and not much cared for by the receivers.
+
+When the young couple are not abounding in what are called "the goods of
+this world," the case is altered; and it may then be an act of real
+kindness for the opulent friends of the bride to present her with any
+handsome article of dress, or of furniture, that they think will be
+acceptable. What we contend is, that on a marriage in a wealthy family,
+the making of presents should be confined to the immediate relatives of
+the lady, and only to such of _them_ as can well afford it.
+
+Much of the money wasted in making ostentatious gifts to brides whose
+fathers have already given them a splendid outfit, might be far better
+employed, in assisting to purchase the _trousseaus_ and the furniture of
+deserving young women in humble life, on their marriage with respectable
+tradesmen or mechanics. How many ladies of fortune have it in their
+power to do this--yet how seldom it is done!
+
+At christenings, it is fortunately the sponsors only that are expected
+to make gifts to the infant. Therefore, invite no persons as sponsors,
+who cannot well afford this expense; unless you are sufficiently
+intimate to request them, privately, not to comply with the custom;
+being unwilling that they should cause themselves inconvenience by doing
+so.
+
+The presentation of Christmas and New-Year's gifts is often a severe tax
+on persons with whom money is not plenty. It would be well if it were
+the universal custom to expect and receive no presents from any but the
+rich.
+
+In making gifts to children, choose for them only such things as will
+afford them somewhat of lasting amusement. For boys, kites, tops, balls,
+marbles, wheelbarrows, carts, gardening utensils, and carpenter's tools,
+&c. Showy toys, that are merely to look at, and from which they can
+derive no enjoyment but in breaking them to pieces, are not worth
+buying. Little girls delight in little tea-sets, and dinner-sets, in
+which they can "make feasts," miniature kitchen-utensils, to play at
+cooking, washing, &c.; and dolls so dressed that all the clothes can be
+taken off and put on at pleasure. They soon grow tired of a doll whose
+glittering habiliments are sewed fast upon her. A wax doll in elegant
+attire is too precarious and expensive a plaything to make them happy;
+as they are always afraid of injuring her. We knew a little girl for
+whom a magnificent wax doll, splendidly dressed, was brought from
+France; and for an hour she was highly delighted. But next morning she
+was found still more happy in carrying about her favourite baby, a
+sofa-pillow, with an old shawl pinned round it for a frock; feeling
+perfect freedom to toss it about as she pleased. Children like their
+doll-babies to be very substantial, and rather heavy than light. A
+large, well-made _rag_-doll is for a small child far better than any
+other--occasionally putting a clean new face upon it.
+
+We have seen country children perfectly satisfied with a doll that was
+nothing but a hard ear of Indian corn, arrayed in a coarse towel pinned
+round it. A little farm-house boy, of three years old, made a pet of a
+large squash, which he dressed in a pocket-handkerchief, and called
+Phebe Ann. We heard him say, as he passed his hand over its lumpy neck,
+"Poor Phebe Ann! what hives she has!"
+
+To an intelligent child, no gifts are so valuable as entertaining
+books--provided they really _are_ entertaining. Children are generally
+wise enough to prefer an amusing book in a plain cover, to a dull one
+shining with gold. When children are able to read fluently, they lose
+much of their desire for mere picture-books. If the cuts are badly
+executed, and give ugly, disagreeable ideas of the characters in the
+stories, they only trouble and annoy the little readers, instead of
+pleasing them. Some of the most popular juvenile books have no pictures
+inside, and no gilding outside. Bad engravings, (beside uselessly
+enhancing the price,) spoil the taste of the children. We highly
+recommend to the publishers of juvenile books to omit the cuts entirely,
+if they cannot afford very good ones. Many children have better judgment
+in these things than their parents suppose; and some of them more than
+the parents themselves.
+
+Children have less enjoyment than is supposed in being taken to shops to
+choose gifts for themselves, or even in laying out their own money. It
+is always a long time before they can decide on what to buy, and as soon
+as they have fixed upon one thing, they immediately see something they
+like better. And often, after getting home, they are dissatisfied with
+their choice, and sorry they bought it. Also, they frequently wear out
+the patience of the shopkeepers; being desirous of seeing every thing,
+and pondering so long before they can determine on buying any thing.
+
+It is every way better to go to the shops without them, buy what you
+think proper, and then give them an agreeable surprise by the
+presentation.
+
+Young ladies should be careful how they accept presents from gentlemen.
+No truly modest and dignified woman will incur such obligations. And no
+gentleman who really respects her will offer her any thing more than a
+bouquet, a book, one or two autographs of distinguished persons, or a
+few relics or mementos of memorable places--things that derive their
+chief value from associations. But to present a young lady with articles
+of jewellery, or of dress, or with a costly ornament for the
+centre-table, (unless she is his affianced wife,) ought to be regarded
+as an offence, rather than a compliment, excusable only in a man sadly
+ignorant of the refinements of society. And if he is so, she should set
+him right, and civilly, but firmly, refuse to be his debtor.
+
+Yet, we are sorry to say, that there are ladies so rapacious, and so
+mean, that they are not ashamed to give broad hints to gentlemen,
+(particularly those gentlemen who are either very young or very old,)
+regarding certain beautiful card-cases, bracelets, essence-bottles, &c.
+which they have seen and admired,--even going so far as to fall in love
+with elegant shawls, scarfs, splendid fans, and embroidered
+handkerchiefs. And their admiration is so violent, and so reiterated,
+that the gentleman knows not how to resist; he therefore puts them in
+possession of a gift far too costly for any woman of delicacy to accept.
+In such cases, the father or mother of the young lady should oblige her
+to return the present. This has been done.
+
+There are ladies who keep themselves supplied with certain articles of
+finery, (for instance, white kid gloves,) by laying ridiculous wagers
+with gentlemen, knowing that, whether winning or losing, the gentleman,
+out of gallantry, always pays. No lady should ever lay wagers, even with
+one of her own sex. It is foolish and unfeminine--and no man likes her
+any the better for indulging in the practice.
+
+Some young ladies, who profess a sort of daughterly regard for certain
+wealthy old gentlemen, are so kind as to knit purses or work slippers
+for them, or some other nick-nacks, (provided always that the "dear old
+man" has a character for generosity,) for they know that he will reward
+them by a handsome present of some bijou of real value. And yet they may
+be assured that the kind old gentleman (whom "they mind no more than if
+he was their pa") sees through the whole plan, knows why the purse was
+knit, or the slippers worked, and esteems the kind young lady
+accordingly.
+
+Another, and highly reprehensible way of extorting a gift, is to have
+what is called a philopena with a gentleman. This very silly joke is
+when a young lady, in cracking almonds, chances to find two kernels in
+one shell; she shares them with a beau; which ever first calls out
+"_philopena_," on their next meeting, is entitled to receive a present
+from the other; and she is to remind him of it till he remembers to
+comply. So much nonsense is often talked on the occasion, that it seems
+to expand into something of importance; and the gentleman thinks he can
+do no less, than purchase for the lady something very elegant, or
+valuable; particularly if he has heard her tell of the munificence of
+other beaux in their philopenas.
+
+There is great want of delicacy and self-respect in philopenaism, and no
+lady who has a proper sense of her dignity _as a lady_ will engage in
+any thing of the sort.
+
+In presenting a dress to a friend whose circumstances are not so
+affluent as your own, and who you know will gladly receive it, select
+one of excellent quality, and of a colour that you think she will like.
+She will feel mortified, if you give her one that is low-priced, flimsy,
+and of an unbecoming tint. Get an ample quantity, so as to allow a piece
+to be cut off and laid by for a new body and sleeves, when necessary.
+And to make the gift complete, buy linen for the body-lining; stiff,
+glazed muslin for the facings; buttons, sewing-silk, and whatever else
+may be wanted. This will save her the cost of these things.
+
+When you give a dress to a poor woman, it is far better to buy for her a
+substantial new one, than to bestow on her an old thin gown of your own.
+The poor have little leisure to sew for themselves; and second-hand fine
+clothes last them but a very short time before they are fit only for the
+rag-bag.
+
+If you are going to have a party, and among your very _intimate_ friends
+is one whose circumstances will not permit her to incur the expense of
+buying a handsome new dress for the occasion, and if she has no choice
+but to stay away, or to appear in a costume very inferior to that of the
+other ladies, you may (if you can well afford it) obviate this
+difficulty by presenting her with a proper dress-pattern, and other
+accessories. This may be managed anonymously, but it will be better to
+do it with her knowledge. It will be a very gratifying mark of your
+friendship; and she ought to consider it as such, and not refuse it from
+a feeling of false pride. Of course, it will be kept a secret from all
+but yourselves. In the overflow of gratitude _she_ may speak of it to
+others, but for _you_ to mention it would be ungenerous and indelicate
+in the extreme. We are glad to say that ladies of fortune often make
+gifts of party-dresses to their less-favoured friends.
+
+In sending a present, always pay in advance the expense of transmitting
+it, so that it may cost nothing at all to the receiver. You may send by
+the Mail a package of any size, weighing not more than four pounds,
+paying the postage yourself at the office from whence it goes. It will
+then be delivered at the door of your friend, without further charge.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+CONVERSATION.
+
+
+Conversation is the verbal interchange of thoughts and feelings. To form
+a _perfect_ conversationist, many qualifications are requisite. There
+must be knowledge of the world, knowledge of books, and a facility of
+imparting that knowledge; together with originality, memory, an
+intuitive perception of what is best to say, and best to omit, good
+taste, good temper, and good manners. An agreeable and instructive
+talker has the faculty of going "from gay to grave, from lively to
+serene," without any apparent effort; neither skimming so slightly over
+a variety of topics as to leave no impression of any, or dwelling so
+long upon one subject as to weary the attention of the hearers. Persons
+labouring under a monomania, such as absorbs their whole mind into one
+prevailing idea, are never pleasant or impressive talkers. They defeat
+their own purpose by recurring to it perpetually, and rendering it a
+perpetual fatigue. A good talker should cultivate a temperance in
+talking; so as not to talk too much, to the exclusion of other good
+talkers. Conversation is dialogue, not monologue. It was said of Madame
+de Stael that she did not converse, but delivered orations.
+
+To be a perfect conversationist, a good voice is indispensable--a voice
+that is clear, distinct, and silver-toned. If you find that you have a
+habit of speaking too low, "reform it altogether." It is a bad one; and
+will render your talk unintelligible.
+
+Few things are more delightful than for one intelligent and well-stored
+mind to find itself in company with a kindred spirit--each understanding
+the other, catching every idea, and comprehending every allusion. Such
+persons will become as intimate in half an hour, as if they had been
+personally acquainted for years.
+
+On the other hand, the pleasure of society is much lessened by the habit
+in which many persons indulge, of placing themselves always in the
+opposition, controverting every opinion, and doubting every fact. They
+talk to you as a lawyer examines a witness at the bar; trying to catch
+you in some discrepancy that will invalidate your testimony; fixing
+their scrutinizing eyes upon your face "as if they would look you
+through," and scarcely permitting you to say, "It is a fine day,"
+without making you prove your words. Such people are never popular.
+Nobody likes perpetual contradiction, especially when the subject of
+argument is of little or no consequence. In young people this dogmatic
+practice is generally based upon vanity and impertinence. In the old it
+is prompted by pride and selfishness. We doubt if in the present day the
+talk and manners of Johnson would have been tolerated in really good
+society.
+
+Unless he first refers to it himself, never talk to a gentleman
+concerning his profession; at least do not question him about it. For
+instance, you must not expect a physician to tell you how his patients
+are affected, or to confide to you any particulars of their maladies.
+These are subjects that he will discuss only with their relatives, or
+their nurses. It is also very improper to ask a lawyer about his
+clients, or the cases in which he is employed. A clergyman does not like
+always to be talking about the church. A merchant, when away from his
+counting-house, has no wish to engage in business-talk with ladies; and
+a mechanic is ever willing "to leave the shop behind him." Every
+American is to be supposed capable of conversing on miscellaneous
+subjects; and he considers it no compliment to be treated as if he knew
+nothing but what the Scotch call his "bread-winner." Still, there are
+some few individuals who like to talk of their bread-winner. If you
+perceive this disposition, indulge them, and listen attentively. You
+will learn something useful, and worth remembering.
+
+Women who have begun the world in humble life, and have been
+necessitated to give most of their attention to household affairs, are
+generally very shy in talking of housewifery, after their husbands have
+become rich, and are living in style, as it is called. Therefore, do not
+annoy them by questions on domestic economy. But converse as if they had
+been ladies always.
+
+Lord Erskine, having lived a bachelor to an advanced age, finally
+married his cook, by way of securing her services, as she had frequently
+threatened to leave him. After she became Lady Erskine she lost all
+knowledge of cookery, and it was a mortal affront to hint the
+possibility of her knowing how any sort of eatable should be prepared
+for the table.
+
+Never remind any one of the time when their situation was less genteel,
+or less affluent than at present, or tell them that you remember their
+living in a small house, or in a remote street. If they have not moral
+courage to talk of such things themselves, it is rude in you to make any
+allusion to them.
+
+On the other hand, if invited to a fashionable house, and to meet
+fashionable company, it is not the time or place for you to set forth
+the comparative obscurity of your own origin, by way of showing that you
+are not proud. If _you_ are not proud, it is most likely that your
+entertainers may be, and they will not be pleased at your
+ultra-magnanimity in thus lowering yourself before their aristocratic
+guests. These communications should be reserved for _tete-a-tetes_ with
+old or familiar friends, who have no more pride than yourself.
+
+When listening to a circumstance that is stated to have actually
+occurred to the relater, even if it strikes you as being very
+extraordinary, and not in conformity to your own experience, it is rude
+to reply, "Such a thing never happened to _me_." It is rude because it
+seems to imply a doubt of the narrator's veracity; and it is foolish,
+because its not having happened to _you_ is no proof that it could not
+have happened to any body else. Slowness in belief is sometimes an
+evidence of ignorance, rather than of knowledge. People who have read
+but little, travelled but little, and seen but little of the world out
+of their own immediate circle, and whose intellect is too obtuse to
+desire any new accession to their own small stock of ideas, are apt to
+think that nothing can be true unless it has fallen under their own
+limited experience. Also, they may be so circumstanced that nothing in
+the least out of the common way is likely to disturb the still water of
+their pond-like existence.
+
+A certain English nobleman always listens incredulously when he hears
+any person descanting on the inconveniences of travelling on the
+continent, and relating instances of bad accommodations and bad fare;
+uncomfortable vehicles, and uncomfortable inns; the short beds and
+narrow sheets of Germany; the slow and lumbering diligence-riding of
+France; the garlicky stews of Spain with a feline foundation; the little
+vine-twig fires in the chilly winters of Northern Italy; and various
+other ills, which the flesh of travellers is heir to;--the duke always
+saying, "Now really _I_ never experienced any of these discomforts, much
+as I have traversed the continent. None of these inconveniences ever
+come in my way." And how should they, when, being a man of enormous
+wealth, he always travels with a cavalcade of carriages; a retinue of
+servants; a wagon-load of bedding and other furniture; a cook, with
+cooking-utensils, and lots of luxurious eatables to be cooked at
+stopping-places--his body-coach (as it is called) being a horse-drawn
+palace. What inconveniences can possibly happen to _him_?
+
+When you hear a gentleman speak in praise of a lady whom you do not
+think deserving of his commendations, you will gain nothing by
+attempting to undeceive him; particularly if she is handsome. Your
+dissenting from his opinion he will, in all probability, impute to envy,
+or ill-nature; and therefore the only impression you can make will be
+against yourself.
+
+Even if you have reason to dislike the lady, recollect that few are
+without some good points both of person and character. And it will be
+much better for you to pass over her faults in silence, and agree with
+him in commending what is really commendable about her. What he would,
+perhaps, believe implicitly if told to him by a man, he would attribute
+entirely to jealousy, or to a love of detraction if related by a woman.
+Above all, if a gentleman descants on the beauty of a lady, and in your
+own mind you do not coincide with his opinion, refrain, on your part,
+from criticizing invidiously her face and figure, and do not say that
+"though her complexion may be fine, her features are not regular;" that
+"her nose is too small," or "her eyes too large," or "her mouth too
+wide." Still less disclose to him the secret of her wearing false hair,
+artificial teeth, or tinging her cheeks with rouge. If she is a bold,
+forward woman, he will find that out as soon as yourself, and sooner
+too,--and you may be sure that though he may amuse himself by talking
+and flirting with her, he in reality regards her as she deserves.
+
+If a foreigner chances, in your presence, to make an unfavourable remark
+upon some custom or habit peculiar to your country, do not immediately
+take fire and resent it; for, perhaps, upon reflection, you may find
+that he is right, or nearly so. All countries have their national
+character, and no character is perfect, whether that of a nation or an
+individual. If you know that the stranger has imbibed an erroneous
+impression, you may calmly, and in a few words, endeavour to convince
+him of it. But if he shows an unwillingness to be convinced, and tells
+you that what he has said he heard from good authority; or that, before
+he came to America, "his mind was made up," it will be worse than
+useless for you to continue the argument. Therefore change the subject,
+or turn and address your conversation to some one else.
+
+Lady Morgan's Duchess of Belmont very properly checks O'Donnell for his
+ultra-nationality, and advises him not to be always running a tilt with
+every Englishman he talks to, continually seeming as if ready with the
+war-cry of "St. Patrick for Ireland, against St. George for England."
+
+Dr. Johnson was speaking of Scotland with his usual severity, when a
+Caledonian who was present, started up, and called out, "Sir, _I_ was
+born in Scotland." "Very well, sir," said the cynic calmly, "I do not
+see why so small a circumstance should make any change in the national
+character."
+
+English strangers complain (and with reason) of the American practice of
+imposing on their credulity, by giving them false and exaggerated
+accounts of certain things peculiar to this country, and telling them,
+as truths, stories that are absolute impossibilities; the amusement
+being to see how the John Bulls swallow these absurdities. Even General
+Washington diverted himself by mystifying Weld the English traveller,
+who complained to him at Mount Vernon of musquitoes so large and fierce
+that they bit through his cloth coat. "Those are nothing," said
+Washington, "to musquitoes I have met with, that bite through a thick
+leather boot." Weld expressed his astonishment, (as well he might;) and,
+when he "put out a book," inserted the story of the boot-piercing
+insects, which he said _must_ be true, as he had it from no less a
+person than General Washington.
+
+It is a work of supererogation to furnish falsehoods for British
+travellers. They can manufacture them fast enough. Also, it is
+ungenerous thus to sport with their ignorance, and betray them into
+ridiculous caricatures, which they present to the English world in good
+faith. We hope these tricks are not played upon any of the best class of
+European travel-writers.
+
+When in Europe, (in England particularly,) be not over sensitive as to
+remarks that may be made on your own country; and do not expect every
+one around you to keep perpetually in mind that you are an American; nor
+require that they should guard every word, and keep a constant check on
+their conversation, lest they should chance to offend your republican
+feelings. The English, as they become better acquainted with America,
+regard us with more favour, and are fast getting rid of their old
+prejudices, and opening their eyes as to the advantages to be derived
+from cultivating our friendship instead of provoking our enmity. They
+have, at last, all learnt that our language is theirs, and they no
+longer compliment newly-arrived Americans on speaking English "quite
+well." It is not many years since two young ladies from one of our
+Western States, being at a party at a very fashionable mansion in
+London, were requested by the lady of the house to talk a little
+American; several of her guests being desirous of hearing a specimen of
+that language. One of the young ladies mischievously giving a hint to
+the other, they commenced a conversation in what school-girls call
+_gibberish_; and the listeners, when they had finished, gave various
+opinions on the American tongue, some pronouncing it very soft, and
+rather musical; others could not help saying candidly that they found it
+rather harsh. But all agreed that it resembled no language they had
+heard before.
+
+There is no doubt that by the masses, better English is spoken in
+America than in England.
+
+However an Englishman or an Englishwoman may boast of their intimacy
+with "the nobility and gentry," there is one infallible rule by which
+the falsehood of these pretensions may be detected. And that is in the
+misuse of the letter H, putting it where it should not be, and omitting
+it where it should. This unaccountable practice prevails, more or less,
+in all parts of England, but is unknown in Scotland and Ireland. It is
+never found but among the middle and lower classes, and by polished and
+well-educated people is as much laughed at in England as it is with us.
+A relative of ours being in a stationer's shop in St. Paul's Church
+Yard, (the street surrounding the cathedral,) heard the stationer call
+his boy, and tell him to "go and take the babby out, and give him a
+_hairing_--the babby having had no _hair_ for a week." We have heard an
+Englishman talk of "taking an _ouse_ that should have an _ot_ water
+pipe, and a _hoven_." The same man asked a young lady "if she had _eels_
+on her boots." We heard an Englishwoman tell a servant to "bring the
+_arth_ brush, and sweep up the _hashes_." Another assured us that "the
+American ladies were quite _hignorant_ of _hetiquette_."
+
+We have actually seen a ridiculous bill sent seriously by a Yorkshireman
+who kept a livery-stable in Philadelphia. The items were, _verbatim_--
+
+                                   D. C.
+    anosafada                      2 50
+    takinonimome                   0 37
+
+No reader can possibly guess this--so we will explain that the first
+line, in which all the words run into one, signifies "An orse af a
+day,"--or "A horse half a day." The second line means "takin on im
+ome,"--or "Taking of him home."
+
+English travellers are justly severe on the tobacco-chewing and
+spitting, that though exploded in the best society, is still too
+prevalent among the million. All American ladies can speak feelingly on
+this subject, for they suffer from it in various ways. First, the
+sickening disgust without which they cannot witness the act of
+expectoration performed before their faces. Next, the danger of
+tobacco-saliva falling on their dresses in the street, or while
+travelling in steamers and rail-cars. Then the necessity of walking
+through the abomination when leaving those conveyances; treading in it
+with their shoes; and wiping it up with the hems of their gowns. We know
+an instance of the crown of a lady's white-silk bonnet being bespattered
+with tobacco-juice, by a man spitting out of a window in one of the New
+York hotels. A lady on the second seat of a box at the Chestnut-street
+theatre, found, when she went home, the back of her pelisse entirely
+spoilt, by some man behind not having succeeded in trying to spit past
+her--or perhaps he did not try. Why should ladies endure all this, that
+men may indulge in a vulgar and deleterious practice, pernicious to
+their own health, and which they cannot acquire without going through a
+seasoning of disgust and nausea?
+
+It is very unmannerly when a person begins to relate a circumstance or
+an anecdote, to stop them short by saying, "I have heard it before."
+Still worse, to say you do not wish to hear it at all. There are people
+who set themselves against listening to any thing that can possibly
+excite melancholy or painful feelings; and profess to hear nothing that
+may give them a sad or unpleasant sensation. Those who have so much
+tenderness for themselves, have usually but little tenderness for
+others. It is impossible to go through the world with perpetual sunshine
+over head, and unfading flowers under foot. Clouds will gather in the
+brightest sky, and weeds choke up the fairest primroses and violets.
+And we should all endeavour to prepare ourselves for these changes, by
+listening with sympathy to the manner in which they have affected
+others.
+
+No person of good feelings, good manners, or true refinement, will
+entertain their friends with minute descriptions of sickening horrors,
+such as barbarous executions, revolting punishments, or inhuman
+cruelties perpetrated on animals. We have never heard an officer dilate
+on the dreadful spectacle of a battlefield; a scene of which no
+description can ever present an adequate idea; and which no painter has
+ever exhibited in all its shocking and disgusting details. Physicians do
+not talk of the dissecting-room.
+
+Unless you are speaking to a physician, and are interested in a patient
+he is attending, refrain in conversation from entering into the
+particulars of revolting diseases, such as scrofula, ulcers, cutaneous
+afflictions, &c. and discuss no terrible operations--especially at
+table. There are women who seem to delight in dwelling on such
+disagreeable topics.
+
+If you are attending the sick-bed of a friend, and are called down to a
+visiter, speak of her illness with delicacy, and do not disclose all the
+unpleasant circumstances connected with it; things which it would grieve
+her to know, may, if once told, be circulated among married women, and
+by them repeated to their husbands. In truth, upon most occasions, a
+married woman is not a safe confidant. She will assuredly tell every
+thing to her husband; and in all probability to his mother and sisters
+also--that is, every thing concerning her friends--always, perhaps,
+under a strict injunction of secrecy. But a secret entrusted to more
+than two or three persons, is soon diffused throughout the whole
+community.
+
+A man of some humour was to read aloud a deed. He commenced with the
+words, "Know one woman by these presents." He was interrupted, and asked
+why he changed the words, which were in the usual form, "Know all men by
+these presents." "Oh!" said he, "'tis very certain that all men will
+soon know it, if one woman does."
+
+Generally speaking, it is injudicious for ladies to attempt arguing with
+gentlemen on political or financial topics. All the information that a
+woman can possibly acquire or remember on these subjects is so small, in
+comparison with the knowledge of men, that the discussion will not
+elevate them in the opinion of masculine minds. Still, it is well for a
+woman to desire enlightenment, that she may comprehend something of
+these discussions, when she hears them from the other sex; therefore let
+her listen as understandingly as she can, but refrain from controversy
+and argument on such topics as the grasp of a female mind is seldom
+capable of seizing or retaining. Men are very intolerant toward women
+who are prone to contradiction and contention, when the talk is of
+things considered out of their sphere; but very indulgent toward a
+modest and attentive listener, who only asks questions for the sake of
+information. Men like to dispense knowledge; but few of them believe
+that in departments exclusively their own, they can profit much by the
+suggestions of women. It is true there are and have been women who have
+distinguished themselves greatly in the higher branches of science and
+literature, and on whom the light of genius has clearly descended. But
+can the annals of woman produce a female Shakspeare, a female Milton, a
+Goldsmith, a Campbell, or a Scott? What woman has painted like Raphael
+or Titian, or like the best artists of our own times? Mrs. Darner and
+Mrs. Siddons had a talent for sculpture; so had Marie of Orleans, the
+accomplished daughter of Louis Philippe. Yet what are the productions of
+these talented ladies compared to those of Thorwaldsen, Canova,
+Chantrey, and the master chisels of the great American statuaries. Women
+have been excellent musicians, and have made fortunes by their voices.
+But is there among them a Mozart, a Bellini, a Michael Kelly, an Auber,
+a Boieldieu? Has a woman made an improvement on steam-engines, or on any
+thing connected with the mechanic arts? And yet these things have been
+done by men of no early education--by self-taught men. A good tailor
+fits, cuts out, and sews better than the most celebrated female
+dress-maker. A good man-cook far excels a good woman-cook. Whatever may
+be their merits as assistants, women are rarely found who are very
+successful at the head of any establishment that requires energy and
+originality of mind. Men make fortunes, women make livings. And none
+make poorer livings than those who waste their time, and bore their
+friends, by writing and lecturing upon the equality of the sexes, and
+what they call "Women's Rights." How is it that most of these ladies
+live separately from their husbands; either despising them, or being
+despised by them?
+
+Truth is, the female sex is really as inferior to the male in vigour of
+mind as in strength of body; and all arguments to the contrary are
+founded on a few anomalies, or based on theories that can never be
+reduced to practice. Because there was a Joan of Arc, and an Augustina
+of Saragossa, should females expose themselves to all the dangers and
+terrors of "the battle-field's dreadful array." The women of the
+American Revolution effected much good to their country's cause, without
+encroaching upon the province of its brave defenders. They were faithful
+and patriotic; but they left the conduct of that tremendous struggle to
+abler heads, stronger arms, and sterner hearts.
+
+We envy not the female who can look unmoved upon physical horrors--even
+the sickening horrors of the dissecting-room.
+
+Yet women are endowed with power to meet misfortune with fortitude; to
+endure pain with patience; to resign themselves calmly, piously, and
+hopefully to the last awful change that awaits every created being; to
+hazard their own lives for those that they love; to toil cheerfully and
+industriously for the support of their orphan children, or their aged
+parents; to watch with untiring tenderness the sick-bed of a friend, or
+even of a stranger; to limit their own expenses and their own pleasures,
+that they may have something to bestow on deserving objects of charity;
+to smooth the ruggedness of man; to soften his asperities of temper; to
+refine his manners; to make his home a happy one; and to improve the
+minds and hearts of their children. All this women can--and do. And this
+is their true mission.
+
+In talking with a stranger, if the conversation should turn toward
+sectarian religion, enquire to what church he belongs; and then mention
+your own church. This, among people of good sense and good manners, and
+we may add of true piety, will preclude all danger of remarks being made
+on either side which may be painful to either party. Happily we live in
+a land of universal toleration, where all religions are equal in the
+sight of the law and the government; and where no text is more powerful
+and more universally received than the wise and incontrovertible
+words--"By their fruits ye shall know them." He that acts well is a good
+man, and a religious man, at whatever altar he may worship. He that acts
+ill is a bad man, and has no true sense of religion; no matter how
+punctual his attendance at church, if of that church he is an unworthy
+member. Ostentatious sanctimony may deceive man, but it cannot deceive
+God.
+
+On this earth there are many roads to heaven; and each traveller
+supposes his own to be the best. But they must all unite in one road at
+the last. It is only Omniscience that can decide. And it will then be
+found that no sect is excluded because of its faith; or if its members
+have acted honestly and conscientiously according to the lights they
+had, and molesting no one for believing in the tenets of a different
+church. The religion of Jesus, as our Saviour left it to us, was one of
+peace and good-will to men, and of unlimited faith in the wisdom and
+goodness, and power and majesty of God. It is not for a frail human
+being to place limits to his mercy, and say what church is the only true
+one--and the only one that leads to salvation. Let all men keep in mind
+this self-evident truth--"He can't be wrong whose life is in the right;"
+and try to act up to the Divine command of "doing unto all men as you
+would they should do unto you."
+
+In America, no religious person of good sense or good manners ever
+attempts, in company, to controvert, uncalled for, the sectarian
+opinions of another. No clergyman that is a gentleman, (and they all are
+so, or ought to be,) ever will make the drawing-room an arena for
+religious disputation, or will offer a single deprecatory remark, on
+finding the person with whom he is conversing to be a member of a church
+essentially differing from his own. And if clergymen have that
+forbearance, it is doubly presumptuous for a woman, (perhaps a silly
+young girl,) to take such a liberty. "Fools rush in, where angels fear
+to tread."
+
+Nothing is more apt to defeat even a good purpose than the mistaken and
+ill-judged zeal of those that are not competent to understand it in all
+its bearings.
+
+Truly does the Scripture tell us--"There is a time for all things." We
+know an instance of a young lady at a ball attempting violently to make
+a proselyte of a gentleman of twice her age, a man of strong sense and
+high moral character, whose church (of which he was a sincere member)
+differed materially from her own. After listening awhile, he told her
+that a ball-room was no place for such discussions, and made his bow and
+left her. At another party we saw a young girl going round among the
+matrons, and trying to bring them all to a confession of faith.
+
+Religion is too sacred a subject for discussion at balls and parties.
+
+If you find that an intimate friend has a leaning toward the church in
+which you worship, first ascertain truly if her parents have no
+objection, and then, but not else, you may be justified in inducing her
+to adopt your opinions. Still, in most cases, it is best not to
+interfere.
+
+In giving your opinion of a new book, a picture, or a piece of music,
+when conversing with a distinguished author, an artist or a musician,
+say modestly, that "so it appears to _you_"--that "it has given _you_
+pleasure," or the contrary. But do not positively and dogmatically
+assert that it _is_ good, or that it _is_ bad. The person with whom you
+are talking is, in all probability, a far more competent judge than
+yourself; therefore, listen attentively, and he may correct your
+opinion, and set you right. If he fail to convince you, remain silent,
+or change the subject. Vulgar ladies have often a way of saying, when
+disputing on the merits of a thing they are incapable of understanding,
+"Any how, _I_ like it," or, "It is quite good enough for _me_."--Which
+is no proof of its being good enough for any body else.
+
+In being asked your candid opinion of a person, be very cautious to whom
+you confide that opinion; for if repeated as yours, it may lead to
+unpleasant consequences. It is only to an intimate and long-tried friend
+that you may safely entrust certain things, which if known, might
+produce mischief. Even very intimate friends are not always to be
+trusted, and when they have actually told something that they heard
+under the injunction of secrecy, they will consider it a sufficient
+atonement to say, "Indeed I did not mean to tell it, but somehow it
+slipped out;" or, "I really intended to guard the secret faithfully, but
+I was so questioned and cross-examined, and bewildered, that I knew not
+how to answer without disclosing enough to make them guess the whole. I
+am very sorry, and will try to be more cautious in future. But these
+slips of the tongue will happen."
+
+The lady whose confidence has been thus betrayed, should be "more
+cautious in future," and put no farther trust in she of the slippery
+tongue--giving her up, entirely, as unworthy of farther friendship.
+
+No circumstances will induce an honourable and right-minded woman to
+reveal a secret after promising secrecy. But she should refuse being
+made the depository of any extraordinary fact which it may be wrong to
+conceal, and wrong to disclose.
+
+We can scarcely find words sufficiently strong to contemn the heinous
+practice, so prevalent with low-minded people, of repeating to their
+friends whatever they hear to their disadvantage. By low-minded people,
+we do not exclusively mean persons of low station. The low-minded are
+not always "born in a garret, in a kitchen bred." Unhappily, there are
+(so-called) ladies--ladies of fortune and fashion--who will descend to
+meannesses of which the higher ranks ought to be considered incapable,
+and who, without compunction, will wantonly lacerate the feelings and
+mortify the self-love of those whom they call their friends, telling
+them what has been said about them by other friends.
+
+It is sometimes said of a notorious tatler and mischief-maker, that "she
+has, notwithstanding, a good heart." How is this possible, when it is
+her pastime to scatter dissension, ill-feeling, and unhappiness among
+all whom she calls her friends? She may, perhaps, give alms to beggars,
+or belong to sewing circles, or to Bible societies, or be officious in
+visiting the sick. All this is meritorious, and it is well if there is
+some good in her. But if she violates the charities of social life, and
+takes a malignant pleasure in giving pain, and causing trouble--depend
+on it, her show of benevolence is mere ostentation, and her acts of
+kindness spring not from the heart. She will convert the sewing circle
+into a scandal circle. If she is assiduous in visiting her sick friends,
+she will turn to the worst account, particulars she may thus acquire of
+the sanctities of private life and the humiliating mysteries of the
+sick-chamber.
+
+If indeed it can be possible that tatling and mischief-making may be
+only (as is sometimes alleged) a bad habit, proceeding from an inability
+to govern the tongue--shame on those who have allowed themselves to
+acquire such a habit, and who make no effort to subdue it, or who have
+encouraged it in their children, and perhaps set them the example.
+
+If you are so unfortunate as to know one of these pests of society, get
+rid of her acquaintance as soon as you can. If allowed to go on, she
+will infallibly bring you into some difficulty, if not into disgrace. If
+she begins by telling you--"I had a hard battle to fight in your behalf
+last evening at Mrs. Morley's. Miss Jewson, whom you believe to be one
+of your best friends, said some very severe things about you, which, to
+my surprise, were echoed by Miss Warden, who said she knew them to be
+true. But I contradicted them warmly. Still they would not be convinced,
+and said I must be blind and deaf not to know better. How very hard it
+is to distinguish those who love from those who hate us!"
+
+Instead of encouraging the mischief-maker to relate the particulars, and
+explain exactly what these severe things really were, the true and
+dignified course should be to say as calmly as you can--"I consider no
+person my friend, who comes to tell such things as must give me pain and
+mortification, and lessen my regard for those I have hitherto esteemed,
+and in whose society I have found pleasure. I have always liked Miss
+Jewson and Miss Warden, and am sorry to hear that they do not like _me_.
+Still, as I am not certain of the exact truth, (being in no place where
+I could myself overhear the discussion,) it will make no difference in
+my behaviour to those young ladies. And now then we will change the
+subject, never to resume it. My true friends do not bring me such
+tales."
+
+By-the-bye, tatlers are always listeners, and are frequently the
+atrocious writers of anonymous letters, for which they should be
+expelled from society.
+
+Let it be remembered that all who are capable of detailing unpleasant
+truths, (such as can answer no purpose but to produce bad feeling, and
+undying enmity,) are likewise capable of exaggerating and
+misrepresenting facts, that do not seem quite strong enough to excite
+much indignation. Tale-bearing always leads to lying. She who begins
+with the first of these vices, soon arrives at the second.
+
+Some prelude these atrocious communications with--"I think it my duty to
+tell how Miss Jackson and Mrs. Wilson talk about you, for it is right
+that you should know your friends from your enemies." You listen,
+believe, and from that time become the enemy of Miss Jackson and Mrs.
+Wilson--having too much pride to investigate the truth, and learn what
+they really said.
+
+Others will commence with--"I'm a plain-spoken woman, and consider it
+right, for your own sake, to inform you that since your return from
+Europe, you talk quite too much of your travels."
+
+You endeavour to defend yourself from this accusation, by replying that
+"having seen much when abroad, it is perfectly natural that you should
+allude to what you have seen."
+
+"Oh! but there should be moderation in all things. To be candid--your
+friend Mrs. Willet says she is tired of hearing of France and Italy."
+
+"Why then does she always try to get a seat next to me, and ask me to
+tell her something more of those countries?"
+
+"Well, I don't know. People are so deceitful! There is Mr. Liddard, who
+says you bore him to death with talking about England."
+
+"And yet whenever I do talk about England, I always find him at the back
+of my chair. And when I pause, he draws me on to say more."
+
+"Men are such flatterers! Well, I always tell the plain truth. So it is
+best you should know Colonel Greenfield declares that since your return
+from Europe you are absolutely intolerable. Excuse my telling you these
+things. It is only to show that every body else thinks just as I do.
+Mrs. Gray says it is a pity you ever crossed the Atlantic."
+
+Do not excuse her--but drop her acquaintance as soon as you can, without
+coming to a quarrel, in which case you will most probably get the worst.
+A plain-spoken woman is always to be dreaded. Her cold-blooded
+affectation of frankness is only a pretext to introduce something that
+will wound your feelings; and then she will tell you "that Mrs. A. B. C.
+and D., and Mr. E. and Mr. F. also, have said a hundred times that you
+are a woman of violent temper, and cannot listen to advice without
+flying into a passion."
+
+And she will quietly take her leave, informing you that she is your best
+friend, and that all she has said was entirely for your own good, and
+that she shall continue to admonish you whenever she sees occasion.
+
+A plain-spoken woman will tell you that you were thought to look very
+ill at Mrs. Thomson's party, your dress being rather in bad taste; that
+you ought to give up singing in company, your best friends saying that
+your style is now a little old-fashioned; that you should not attempt
+talking French to French ladies, as Mr. Leroux and Mr. Dufond say that
+your French is not quite Parisian, &c. &c. She will say these things
+upon no authority but her own.
+
+When any one prefaces an enquiry by the vulgarism, "If it is a fair
+question?" you may be very certain that the question is a most _un_fair
+one--that is, a question which it is impertinent to ask, and of no
+consequence whatever to the asker.
+
+If a person begins by telling you, "Do not be offended at what I am
+going to say," prepare yourself for something that she knows will
+certainly offend you. But as she has given you notice, try to listen,
+and answer with calmness.
+
+It is a delicate and thankless business to tell a friend of her faults,
+unless you are certain that, in return, you can bear without anger to
+hear her point out your own. She will undoubtedly recriminate.
+
+It is not true that an irritable temper cannot be controlled. It can,
+and is, whenever the worldly interest of the _enragee_ depends on its
+suppression.
+
+Frederick the Great severely reprimanded a Prussian officer for striking
+a soldier at a review. "I could not refrain," said the officer. "I have
+a high temper, your majesty, and I cannot avoid showing it, when I see a
+man looking sternly at me." "Yes, you can," replied the king. "I am
+looking sternly at you, and I am giving you ten times as much cause of
+offence as that poor soldier--yet you do not strike _me_."
+
+A naturally irritable disposition can always be tamed down, by a strong
+and persevering effort to subdue it, and by determining always to check
+it on its first approaches to passion. The indulgence of temper renders
+a man (and still more a woman) the dread and shame of the whole house.
+It wears out the affection of husbands, wives, and children--of brothers
+and sisters; destroys friendship; disturbs the enjoyment of social
+intercourse; causes incessant changing of servants; and is a constant
+source of misery to that most unhappy of all classes, poor relations.
+
+That a violent temper is generally accompanied by a good heart, is a
+popular fallacy. On the contrary, the indulgence of it hardens the
+heart. And even if its ebullitions are always succeeded by "compunctious
+visitings," and followed by apologies and expressions of regret, still
+it leaves wounds that time cannot always efface, and which we may
+forgive, but cannot forget.
+
+Ill-tempered women are very apt to call themselves nervous, and to
+attribute their violent fits of passion to a weakness of the nerves.
+This is not true. A real nervous affection shows itself "more in sorrow
+than in anger," producing tears, tremor, and head-ache, fears without
+adequate cause, and general depression of spirits--the feelings becoming
+tender to a fault.
+
+When a woman abandons herself to terrible fits of anger with little or
+no cause, and makes herself a frightful spectacle, by turning white
+with rage, rolling up her eyes, drawing in her lips, gritting her teeth,
+clenching her hands, and stamping her feet, depend on it, she is not of
+a nervous, but of a furious temperament. A looking-glass held before
+her, to let her see what a shocking object she has made herself, would,
+we think, have an excellent effect. We have seen but a few females in
+this revolting state, and only three of them were ladies--but we have
+heard of many.
+
+When the paroxysm is over, all the atonement she can make is to
+apologize humbly, and to pray contritely. If she has really any goodness
+of heart, and any true sense of religion, she will do this promptly, and
+prove her sincerity by being very kind to those whom she has outraged
+and insulted--and whose best course during these fits of fury is to make
+no answer, or to leave the room.
+
+As out of nothing, nothing can come, to be a good conversationist, you
+must have a well-stored mind, originality of ideas, and a retentive
+memory. Without making a lumber-room of your head, and stuffing it with
+all manner of useless and unnecessary things not worth retaining, you
+should select only such as are useful or ornamental, interesting or
+amusing. Your talk must flow as if spontaneously; one subject suggesting
+another, none being dwelt upon too long. Anecdotes may be introduced
+with much effect. They should be short, and related in such words as
+will give them the most point. We have heard the same anecdote told by
+two persons. With one it became prosy and tiresome, and the point was
+not perceptible from its being smothered in ill-chosen words. With the
+other narrator, the anecdote was "all light and spirit; soon told, and
+not soon forgotten." Brevity is the soul of wit, and wit is the soul of
+anecdote. And where wit is wanting, humour is an excellent substitute.
+Every body likes to laugh, or ought to. Yet there is a time for all
+things; and after listening to a serious or interesting incident well
+related, it is exceedingly annoying to hear some silly and heartless
+girl follow it with a ridiculous remark, intended to be funny--such as
+"Quite solemncolly!"--or, "We are all getting into the doldrums."
+
+You may chance to find yourself in a company where no one is capable of
+appreciating the best sort of conversation, and where to be understood,
+or indeed to keep them awake, you must talk down to the capacities of
+your hearers. You must manage this adroitly, or they may find you out,
+and be offended. So, after all, it is, perhaps, safest to go on and
+scatter pearls where wax beads would be equally valued. Only in such
+society, do not introduce quotations from the poets, especially from
+Shakspeare, or your hearers may wonder what queer words you are saying.
+Another time, and with congenial companions, you can indulge in "the
+feast of reason, and the flow of soul."
+
+If placed beside a lady so taciturn that no effort on your part can draw
+her out, or elicit more than a monosyllable, and that only at long
+intervals, you may safely conclude that there is nothing in her, and
+leave her to her own dullness, or to be enlivened by the approach of one
+of the other sex. That will make her talk.
+
+Few persons are good talkers who are not extensive and miscellaneous
+readers. You cannot attentively read the best authors without obtaining
+a great command of words, so that you can always, with ease and fluency,
+clothe your ideas in appropriate language.
+
+Knowledge is of course the basis of conversation--the root whose
+deepened strength and vigour gives life to the tree, multiplicity to its
+branches, and beauty to its foliage.
+
+Much that is bad and foolish in women would have no existence if their
+minds were less barren. In a waste field, worthless and bitter weeds
+will spring up which it is hard to eradicate; while a soil that is
+judiciously cultivated produces abundant grain, luxuriant grass, and
+beautiful flowers.
+
+There are ladies so exceedingly satisfied with themselves, and so
+desirous of being thought the special favourites of Providence, that
+they are always desiring to hold out an idea "that pain and sorrow can
+come not near them," and that they enjoy a happy exemption from "all the
+ills that flesh is heir to." They complain of nothing, for they profess
+to have nothing to complain of. They feel not the cold of winter, nor
+the heat of summer. The temperature is always exactly what _they_ like.
+To them the street is never muddy with rain, nor slippery with ice.
+Unwholesome food agrees perfectly with _them_. They sleep soundly in bad
+beds, or rather no beds are bad. Travelling never fatigues them. Nobody
+imposes on them, nobody offends them. Other people may be ill--they are
+always in good health and spirits. To them all books are
+delightful--all pictures beautiful--all music charming. Other people may
+have trouble with their children--_they_ have none. Other people may
+have bad servants--_theirs_ are always excellent.
+
+Now if all this were true, the lot of such persons would indeed be
+enviable, and we should endeavour to learn by what process such complete
+felicity has been attained--and why they see every thing through such a
+roseate medium. But it is not true. This is all overweening vanity, and
+a desire "to set themselves up above the rest of the world." We have
+always noticed that these over-fortunate, over-happy women have, in
+reality, a discontented, care-worn look, resulting from the incessant
+painful effort to seem what they are not. And if any body will take the
+trouble, it is very easy to catch them in discrepancies and
+contradictions. But it is not polite to do so. Therefore let them pass.
+
+As mothers are always on the _qui vive_, (and very naturally,) be
+careful what you say of their children. Unless he is a decidedly
+handsome man, you may give offence by remarking, "The boy is the very
+image of his father." If the mother is a vain woman, she would much
+rather hear that all the children are the very image of herself. Refrain
+from praising too much the children of another family, particularly if
+the two sets of children are cousins. It is often dangerous to tell a
+mother that "little Willy is growing quite handsome." She will probably
+answer, "I had hoped my child was handsome always." With some mothers it
+is especially imprudent to remark that "little Mary looks like her
+aunt, or her grandmother." Again, if you prudently say nothing about the
+looks of the little dears, you may be suspected and perhaps accused of
+taking no interest in children. Young ladies, when in presence of
+gentlemen, are too apt to go on the other extreme, and over-act their
+parts, in the excessive fondling and kissing and hugging of children not
+in the least engaging, or even good-looking. We cannot believe that any
+female, not the mother, can really fall into raptures with a cross, ugly
+child. But how pleasant it is to play with and amuse, an intelligent,
+affectionate, and good-tempered little thing, to hear its innocent
+sayings, and to see the first buddings of its infant mind.
+
+When you are visiting another city, and receiving civilities from some
+of its inhabitants, it is an ill requital for their attentions to
+disparage their place, and glorify your own. In every town there is
+something to praise; and in large cities there is a great deal to amuse,
+to interest, and to give pleasure. Yet there are travellers who (like
+Smelfungus) are never satisfied with the place they are in--who exclaim
+all the time against the east winds of Boston, the sea-air of New York,
+the summer heats of Philadelphia, the hilly streets of Baltimore, and
+the dusty avenues of Washington. We have heard people from New Orleans
+call Philadelphia the hottest city in the Union, and people from Quebec
+call it the coldest. If there are two successive days of rain, then poor
+Philadelphia is the rainiest of all places. If it snows twice in two
+weeks, then it is the snowiest. If a fire breaks out, it is the city of
+fires. If there is an Irish fight in Moyamensing, it is the city of
+perpetual riots. By-the-bye, after that summer when we really had
+several successive riots up-town, and down-town, we saw an English
+caricature of the City of Brotherly Love, where the spirit of William
+Penn, in hat and wig, was looking down sadly from the clouds at the
+rioters, who were all represented as Quakers, in strait, plain clothes,
+and broad brims, knocking each other about with sticks and stones,
+firing pistols, and slashing with bowie-knives. Alas, poor Quakers! how
+guiltless ye were of all this! It is a common belief in England, that of
+this sect are _all_ the people of Pennsylvania.
+
+In talking to an elderly lady, it is justly considered very rude to make
+any allusion to her age; even if she is unmistakeably an old woman, and
+acknowledges it herself. For instance, do not say--"This silk of yours
+is very suitable for an elderly person"--or--"Will you take this
+chair?--an old lady like you will find it very comfortable"--or--"Look,
+baby--is not that grandma?"--or--"I told the servant to attend first to
+you, on account of your age"--or--"Children, don't make such a
+noise--have you no respect for old people?"
+
+All this we have heard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+INCORRECT WORDS.
+
+
+Every one who sees much of the world must observe with pain and surprise
+various unaccountable instances of improper and incorrect words that
+sometimes disfigure the phraseology of females who have gone through a
+course of fashionable education, and mixed in what is really genteel
+society. These instances, it is true, are becoming every day more rare;
+but we regret that they should exist at all. Early impressions are hard
+to eradicate. Bad habits of speaking are formed in childhood: sometimes
+from the society of illiterate parents, but more frequently from that of
+nurses and servants; and if not corrected or shaken off in due time,
+will cling like burrs to the diction of women who are really ladies in
+every thing else. Such women will say "that there," and "this
+here"--"them girls"--"them boys"--"I don't want no more"--"I didn't hear
+nothing about it"--"I didn't see nobody there"--"I won't do so no more."
+And other similar violations of grammar; and grammar is never more
+palpably outraged than when two negatives are used for an affirmative.
+It is surely shorter and easier to say, "I want no more"--"I heard
+nothing about it"--"I saw nobody there"--"I will do so no more."
+
+Another grammatical error, less glaring, but equally incorrect, is the
+too common practice of converting a certainty into an uncertainty by
+saying, "I have no doubt but he was there." As if his being there was
+your only doubt. You should say, "I have no doubt of his being there."
+"I have no doubt but that he wrote it," seems to signify that you do
+doubt his writing it, and that you are nearly sure he did not. The
+proper phrase is, "I have no doubt of his writing it." "I do not doubt
+but that she knew it long ago," implies that you do doubt her having
+known it. It should be, "I do not doubt her knowing it long ago." Leave
+out _but_, when you talk of doubting.
+
+No word is proper that does not express the true meaning. For instance,
+it is not right to call a township a town. A township is a section of
+land that may consist entirely of forests and farms, and may not
+comprise even a small village or hamlet. A town resembles a city in
+being closely built up with streets of adjoining houses. Men cannot go
+fishing or hunting in a _town_, though they may in a township. We are
+surprised to find this misapplication of the word among some of the most
+distinguished of the New-England _literati_. Perhaps it explains
+Jonathan's perplexity in one of the old Yankee Doodle songs:
+
+    "He said he couldn't see the town,
+      There were so many houses."
+
+We hope it is not necessary to caution our readers against the most
+provincial of Yankee provincialisms, such as, "I hadn't ought," or "I
+shouldn't ought"--or "It warn't," instead of "It was not"--or the
+exclamations, "Do tell!" or "I want to know," ejaculated as a token of
+surprise the moment after you have told, and made known. The common
+English habit, or rather a habit of the common English, of using
+continually the words "you know," and "you know," is very tiresome,
+particularly when they are talking of something that you cannot possibly
+be acquainted with. Check them by saying, "No, I do not know." They also
+make great use of the word "monstrous"--ugly as that word is. Do not
+imitate them in saying that you are "monstrous glad," or "monstrous
+sorry," or "monstrous tired," or that a young lady is "monstrous
+pretty." We have heard even "monstrous little."
+
+We advise our New-England friends to eschew, both in speaking and
+writing, all Yankee phrases that do not convey the exact meaning of the
+words. For instance, to "_turn out_ the tea," instead of to "_pour_ it
+out." There can be no turn given, in this process, to the spout or
+handle of the tea-pot. On the contrary, it cannot pour well unless it is
+held straight. To "cut the eggs," instead of to beat them. The motion of
+beating eggs does not cut them. "Braiding eggs," is still worse. But we
+believe that this braiding is not the same as cutting. What is it?
+
+Two young officers were travelling in the far West when they stopped to
+take supper at a small road-side tavern, kept by a very rough Yankee
+woman. The landlady, in a calico sun-bonnet, and bare feet, stood at
+the head of the table to pour out. She enquired of her guests, "if they
+chose long sweetening, or short sweetening in their coffee." The first
+officer, supposing that "long sweetening" meant a large portion of that
+article, chose it accordingly. What was his dismay when he saw their
+hostess dip her finger deep down into an earthen jar of honey that stood
+near her, and then stir it (the finger) round in the coffee. His
+companion, seeing this, preferred "short sweetening." Upon which the
+woman picked up a large lump of maple sugar that lay in a brown paper on
+the floor beside her, and biting off a piece, put it into his cup. Both
+the gentlemen dispensed with coffee that evening. This anecdote we heard
+from the sister of one of those officers.
+
+"Emptyings" is not a good name for yeast. "Up chamber, up garret, down
+cellar," are all wrong. Why not say, "up in the chamber, up in the
+garret, down in the kitchen, down in the cellar" &c.? Why should a
+mirthful fit of laughter be called "a gale"? "Last evening we were all
+in such a gale!"
+
+Snow and ice are not the same. Therefore a snowball should not be called
+an ice-ball, which latter might be a very dangerous missile.
+
+Pincushions are pincushions, and not pin-balls, unless they are of a
+globular shape. If in the form of hearts, diamonds, &c., they are not
+balls.
+
+When you are greatly fatigued, say so--and not that you are "almost beat
+out." When the Yankees are "beat out," the English are quite "knocked
+up." The English are "starved with cold"--Americans only starve with
+hunger. They may perish with cold; but unless hunger is added, they will
+not starve.
+
+It is wrong to say that certain articles of food are healthy or
+unhealthy. Wholesome and unwholesome are the right words. A pig may be
+healthy or unhealthy while alive; but after he is killed and becomes
+pork, he can enjoy no health, and suffer no sickness.
+
+If you have been accustomed to pronounce the word "does" as "doos," get
+rid of the custom as soon as you can. Also, give up saying "pint" for
+"point," "jint" for "joint," "anint" for "anoint," &c. Above all, cease
+saying "featur, creatur, natur, and raptur."
+
+In New England it is not uncommon to hear the word "ugly" applied to a
+bad temper. We have heard, "He will never do for president, because he
+is so ugly." On our observing that we had always considered the
+gentleman in question, as rather a handsome man, it was explained that
+he was considered ugly in disposition.
+
+A British traveller, walking one day in a suburb of Boston, saw a woman
+out on a door-step whipping a screaming child. "Good woman," said the
+stranger, "why do you whip that boy so severely?" She answered, "I
+_will_ whip him, because he is so ugly." The Englishman walked on; but
+put down in his journal that "American mothers are so cruel as to beat
+their children, merely because they are not handsome."
+
+No genteel Bostonian should call Faneuil Hall, "Old Funnel," or talk of
+the "Quinsey market," instead of Quincy, or speak of "Bacon street," or
+"Bacon Hill." That place was so called from a beacon, or signal-pole
+with a light at the top, and never was particularly celebrated for the
+pickling and smoking of pork.
+
+The word "slump," or "slumped," has too coarse a sound to be used by a
+lady.
+
+When you have exchanged one article for another, say so, and not that
+you have "traded it."
+
+Do not say, "I should admire to read that book," "I should admire to
+hear that song," "I should admire to see the president." Substitute, "I
+should like to read that book," "I should like to hear that song," "I
+should like to see the president."
+
+Using the word "love" instead of "like" is not peculiar to the ladies of
+any section of the Union. But they may assure themselves it is wrong to
+talk of _loving_ any thing that is eatable. They may _like_ terrapins,
+oysters, chicken-salad, or ice-cream; but they need not _love_ terrapins
+or oysters, or _love_ chicken-salad.
+
+We remember, in the farce of Modern Antiques, laughing at an awkward
+servant-girl bringing in a dish of salad to a supper-table, before the
+company had assembled, and, after taking a large bite, turning her
+foolish face toward the audience, and saying, "I loves beet-root."
+
+Even if you are a provincial New-Yorker, give up calling the door-step
+or porch by the ancient Dutch name of "stoop," (stoep,) and do not talk
+of going out on the stoop, or sitting in the stoop. When a load of wood
+or coal is put down at your door, say not that it is "dumped." Never
+speak of visiting friends that "live to Brooklyn," or "live to Newark."
+They live _at_ those places, not _to_ them. The word "muss" sounds
+badly, when a young lady says, "her scarf is mussed," or her collar is
+"mussed"--or that her bureau drawers are all in a muss. The English
+synonyme, "mess," has _rather_ a better sound. Be it also remembered
+that a stool is not a bench. A bench holds several people, a stool but
+one.
+
+When you mean that an article of dress (a bonnet or a cap) is neat and
+pretty, do not say that it is cunning. An inanimate object cannot be
+cunning. To be cunning requires some mind. We are sorry to say that we
+have heard females who, when they intend to be witty, talk of taking a
+snooze, (which means a nap,) and speak of a comic anecdote as being
+"rich," and of a man in faded clothes as looking "seedy." We have heard
+Philadelphia ladies speak of a "great big" house, or a "great big" ship;
+and there are still some who _expect_ what has already come to pass--as,
+"I expect it rained somewhere last night"--"I expect she arrived
+yesterday"--"I expect he went to Baltimore." In all these cases the
+proper term is "I suppose," and not "I expect."
+
+The word "mayhap" (instead of perhaps) is a positive vulgarism. It is of
+English origin, but is only used in England by very low people--and by
+English writers, never.
+
+We have little tolerance for young ladies, who, having in reality
+neither wit nor humour, set up for both, and having nothing of the
+right stock to go upon, substitute coarseness and impertinence, (not to
+say impudence,) and try to excite laughter, and attract the attention of
+gentlemen, by talking slang. Where do they get it? How do they pick it
+up? From low newspapers, or from vulgar books? Surely not from low
+companions?
+
+We have heard one of these ladies, when her collar chanced to be pinned
+awry, say that it was put on drunk--also that her bonnet was drunk,
+meaning crooked on her head. When disconcerted, she was "floored." When
+submitting to do a thing unwillingly, "she was brought to the scratch."
+Sometimes "she did things on the sly." She talked of a certain great
+vocalist "singing like a beast." She believed it very smart and piquant
+to use these vile expressions. It is true, when at parties, she always
+had half a dozen gentlemen about her; their curiosity being excited as
+to what she would say next. And yet she was a woman of many good
+qualities; and one who boasted of having always "lived in society."
+
+We think that gentlemen lose a particle of their respect for young
+ladies who allow their names to be abbreviated into such cognomens as
+Kate, Madge, Bess, Nell, &c. Surely it is more lady-like to be called
+Catharine, Margaret, Eliza, or Ellen. We have heard the beautiful name
+Virginia degraded into Jinny; and Harriet called Hatty, or even Hadge.
+
+A very silly practice has been introduced of writing Sally,
+Sallie--Fanny, Fannie--Mary, Marie--Abby, Abbie, &c. What would our
+grand-parents have thought of Pollie, Mollie, Peggie, Kittie, Nancie?
+Suppose young men were to adopt it, and sign themselves, Sammie, Billie,
+Dickie, Tommie, &c.!
+
+By-the-bye, unless he is a relation, let no young lady address a
+gentleman by his Christian name. It is a familiarity which he will not
+like.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+BORROWING.
+
+
+Any article you are likely to want on more than one occasion, it is
+better to buy than to borrow. If your own, you can have it always at
+hand: you will lay yourself under no obligation to a lender, and incur
+no responsibility as to its safety while in your possession. But when
+you _do_ borrow, see that the article is speedily returned. And, under
+no consideration, take the liberty of lending it to any person whatever,
+before restoring it to the owner. Apologies and expressions of regret
+are no compensation, should it be out of your power to replace it if
+injured or lost.
+
+When you ask to borrow a thing, do not say, "Will you _loan_ it to me?"
+The word "loan" is, by good talkers, and good writers, never used but as
+a substantive: notwithstanding that Johnson gives it as a verb also, but
+only on one obscure authority--and Johnson is not now regarded as
+infallible. To _lend_, not to _loan_, is the usual and proper
+expression. As a substantive it is generally employed in a commercial
+and political sense, or to denote a large sum borrowed for a public and
+important purpose. It is true you can say, "May I request the loan of
+your fan?" "Will you permit me to ask the loan of this book?" But it is
+much easier and smoother to say simply, "Will you lend me your fan for a
+few minutes?" "Will you be kind enough to lend me this book?"
+
+No articles, perhaps, are more frequently borrowed than umbrellas, and
+none are returned with so little punctuality. Frequently, a borrowed
+umbrella is never thought of by the borrower, till after the weather
+clears up; the lender, most probably, suffering inconvenience for want
+of it. Often it is detained till the next rain, when the lender has to
+take the trouble of sending for it. And then it is very possible it may
+not be found at all; some person in the mean time having nefariously
+carried it off. In such a case, it is a matter of common honesty for the
+careless borrower to replace that umbrella with a new one; as she is not
+to suppose that empty expressions of regret or unmeaning apologies will
+be sufficient compensation for a substantial loss.
+
+To avoid any difficulties concerning umbrellas, it is safest, in cloudy
+weather, not to leave home without one. Many persons venture out beneath
+a threatening sky, unwilling to encumber themselves with an umbrella,
+which (possibly) they may not chance to require before they got home.
+Their dependance is on stopping in at the house of a friend, and
+borrowing one there. But is it not better to incommode yourself a little
+by carrying a closed umbrella, even if you should _not_ find occasion to
+use it, than to hasten rapidly through the street to reach a shelter
+when you find the rain beginning to drop; and afterwards to deprive your
+friend, even temporarily, of an article which the wet weather may
+render it inconvenient to spare. Also, you may be caught by a sudden
+shower, at a considerable distance from the dwelling of the person with
+whom you are acquainted, and you may find the omnibuses all full, (as
+they generally are when it rains,) and no other vehicle in sight.
+Therefore, when the wind is in a rainy quarter, and the sky louring, be
+always on the safe side, and take an umbrella with you on leaving home.
+
+Every lady should own a small light umbrella, or else a very large
+parasol, of extra size, covered with strong India silk that will not
+easily tear or fade, and that may be used, on occasion, for either sun
+or rain; and that will not be cumbrous to carry, though quite large
+enough to shelter _one_ person. In truth, we have found but few
+umbrellas, however large, that could effectually cover _two_ persons
+(unless they were people of very small size) so that the rain did not
+drop upon the off-shoulder of one or the other. You cannot be well
+screened by an umbrella, unless you carry it all the time steadily in
+your _own_ hands, and over yourself alone. And politeness requires that
+you should give your companion the best of the shelter. So when two
+ladies go out together, the clouds portending rain, let each take an
+umbrella for herself, and then much injury to bonnets and shawls may be
+avoided.
+
+These small light umbrellas are excellent to travel with, and especially
+useful in the transit from car to steamboat, or even from the house to
+the carriage. When not in "actual service," keep this umbrella beside
+you with your shawl and your travelling satchel. It will be useful
+during the journey, if packed away in a trunk.[15]
+
+When you purchase an umbrella, desire that, before sending it home, your
+name be engraved on the little plate at the termination of the handle,
+or else on the slide. "To make assurance doubly sure," you may get the
+name painted in full in small white or yellow letters on the _inside_ of
+one of the gores of silk. These letters will not be conspicuous on the
+outside, but they will always serve to identify the umbrella. Your
+residence (if permanent) may be added. When about to travel, sew a small
+card with your address near the bottom of one of the gores inside. This
+card may be changed when staying at a new place. With these precautions,
+and a little care, (unless you are habitually thoughtless and
+forgetful,) you may carry an umbrella from Maine to Florida without
+losing it.
+
+All the members of a family should be provided with at least one
+rain-umbrella of their own, and these should be kept up-stairs when not
+likely to be wanted. There is always great danger of their being
+purloined, or _borrowed_, if left in the hall. Persons who would not,
+for the world, be known to pilfer a single cent, are by no means
+particular with regard to detaining an umbrella or a book.
+
+Umbrellas for the kitchen can now be had as low as seventy-five cents,
+or one dollar. If of coloured cotton (brown or blue) and highly glazed,
+they will turn off a moderate rain very well, but a drenching shower may
+cause the dye or colouring to run in streams. For very common use,
+though higher in price, the best are of oil-cloth, or of brown
+unbleached linen. The handsomest umbrellas are of blue or brown India
+silk, with steel frames, and a small silver name-plate on the handle. A
+green silk umbrella will soon be spoiled by the rain, and none look so
+badly in a short time. We have known a lady's bonnet entirely ruined by
+the drippings from a green parasol, hastily put up as a small screen
+from a sudden shower. No colour stands the sun and damp so badly as
+green.
+
+After borrowing an umbrella, fail not to send it back immediately,
+unless you have previously ascertained from the owner that it will not
+be wanted for two or three hours. In that case, you will have time to
+dry it before it goes home; and this should be done as soon as possible,
+that it may be returned in good order. If left in the entry or hall, it
+may be carried off; or, in plain words, stolen. Let it be dried under
+your own inspection, spreading it wide open, and standing it on the
+floor. If dried fast, and in an expanded position, the wetting will not
+perceptibly injure it. But if left shut and standing up closed, with the
+wet soaking into the umbrella, it will dry in discoloured streaks, and
+be spoiled. If the spring or any other part of a borrowed umbrella gets
+broken or injured while in your possession, be sure to have it repaired
+before sending home. There is a meanness verging on dishonesty in
+leaving this to be done by the owner.
+
+If the cheap or common umbrellas are given up to the care of the
+domestics, and kept in the kitchen, in all probability they will soon
+disappear altogether, and be no longer forthcoming when wanted. They
+will lend them to their friends, and lose them in various ways. The
+umbrellas should be kept in some small room or closet up-stairs; and
+when required, the servants should come and ask for them; bringing them
+back when done with, and dried.
+
+When you go out to tea, even in a summer evening, carry a shawl on your
+arm to throw over your shoulders before coming out into the night-air.
+This will preclude the necessity of borrowing one of your friend, should
+the weather have changed and grown cooler. Also, to prevent any risk
+from damp pavements, take with you a pair of over-shoes, (India-rubber,
+of course,) or else a pair of inside-soles, such as you can conveniently
+slip into your pocket. We have found no inside-soles equal to those of
+lamb-skin with the wool left on the upper-side; the under-side of the
+skin being coated with India-rubber varnish to render them water-proof.
+These soles are both warm and dry, and are far pleasanter than cork
+soles covered with flannel, and more lasting. But if you are obliged to
+borrow things to wear home, see that they are sent back next morning, if
+not the same evening, and in good order--the shawl well-dried from the
+damp, and folded smoothly, and the over-shoes cleaned nicely.
+
+Always take a fan with you on going to a place of public amusement. You
+will be sure to require it, and it is better than to depend on fanning
+yourself with the bill or programme, or borrowing the fan of a more
+provident friend, and perhaps forgetting to return it.
+
+With regard to the practice of borrowing articles of household use, it
+is generally a custom "more honoured in the breach than the observance,"
+particularly when living in a place where all such things can be easily
+obtained by sending to the shops. There are persons who, with ample
+means of providing themselves with all that is necessary for domestic
+service, are continually troubling their neighbours for the loan of a
+hammer, a screw-driver, a gimlet, a carpet-stretcher, a bed-stead screw,
+a fluting-iron, a preserving kettle, jelly-moulds, ice-cream freezers,
+&c. &c. If these or any other articles _must_ be borrowed, let them be
+returned promptly, and in good order.
+
+If, in consequence of the unexpected arrival of company, any thing for
+the table is borrowed of a neighbour, such as tea, coffee, butter, &c.,
+see that it is punctually returned; equal in quantity, and in quality;
+or rather superior. Habitual borrowers are very apt to forget this piece
+of honesty, either neglecting to return the things at all, or meanly
+substituting inferior articles--or perhaps laying themselves under such
+an imputation without actually deserving it, should the lender be
+ill-natured or untruthful. There is a homely proverb, "To go a-borrowing
+is to go a-sorrowing."
+
+We have been told of a very aristocratic but very economical lady, in
+one of our large cities, who was in the almost daily practice of
+borrowing things of a neighbour to whom she never condescended to speak.
+On one occasion she borrowed the use of that neighbour's fire to roast a
+pair of fowls.
+
+Avoid borrowing change, or small sums. It is possible that you may
+really forget to repay them; but then it is also possible that you may
+be suspected of forgetting wilfully. So do not trust much to your
+memory. It is a true remark, that there are few instances of a borrower
+being so oblivious as to offer twice over the return of a small loan,
+forgetting that it had been paid already.
+
+In borrowing a dress as a pattern, it is safest not to try it upon
+yourself, lest some part of the body should be stretched or frayed.
+Also, in trying on a bonnet or cap that is not your own, refrain from
+tying the strings; as every tying will give them additional wrinkles or
+rumples, and perhaps somewhat soil them. Never put on another person's
+gloves.
+
+Should you be staying at a boarding-house, do not depend on "the lady in
+the next room," or any other lady, to lend you things which you can
+procure quite as easily as she can. Keep yourself always provided with
+pen, ink, and paper, envelopes, wafers, sealing-wax, pencils,
+post-office stamps, &c. Also with sewing implements.
+
+When a friend lends you a handkerchief, a collar, or any other washable
+article, see that it is nicely washed, and done up, before returning it
+to her,--and do so promptly. If an article of jewellery, carry it back
+to her yourself, and put it into her own hand, to preclude all risk of
+loss. She will not be so ungenerous as to tell any person that she has
+lent it to you; and will for a while afterward, refrain from wearing it
+herself, in any company where it may be recognized.
+
+Should a visiter accidentally leave her handkerchief at your house, have
+it washed and ironed before restoring it to her.
+
+On borrowing a book, immediately put a cover upon it--and let the cover
+be of clean, smooth, white or light-coloured paper. What is called
+nankeen paper is best and strongest for this purpose. Newspaper, or any
+paper that is printed, makes a vile book-cover. Beside its mean and
+dirty appearance, the printing-ink will not only soil your own hands
+while reading, but will do more injury to the binding than if it was
+left uncovered.
+
+To cover a book neatly--take a sheet of nice paper of more than
+sufficient size, and lay the book open upon it. Cut a notch or
+indentation at the top and bottom of this paper, so as to admit the back
+of the book, making the notch exactly the width of the back, and two or
+three inches deep. Fold down the edges of the paper straightly,
+smoothly, and evenly, over the edges of the binding or cover. Fold the
+corners of the paper nicely underneath, (trimming off the superfluous
+paper that turns under,) making them lie as flat as possible. You may
+secure all the folds at the corners with small wafers, pins, or
+paste-cement. If you use pins, take care to stick them so as not to
+scratch the inside of the binding, or to prick and tear the fly-leaves.
+The paper-cover should not only be strong, but smooth also; if coarse
+and rough, it will injure the binding. When you send the book home, put
+it up neatly, so as to make a well-looking package; secured with either
+a string or a seal, and direct it to the owner.
+
+If the book is a pamphlet, and the sewing-thread gives way, sew it
+again, with a large needle and a strong brown thread--not white cotton.
+If not sewed immediately, it will fall apart, and some leaves may drop
+out, and be lost. If, by any unlucky accident, a leaf is torn, lay the
+two pieces nicely together, and sew them, lightly, with a rather fine
+thread. But if one side of the torn page is blank, it will be best to
+mend it by pasting a small narrow slip of white paper underneath, so as
+to unite the torn edges neatly.
+
+You may have excellent paste or cement, continually at hand, by buying
+at a druggist's an ounce of the _best and cleanest_ gum tragacanth, with
+a little bit of corrosive sublimate not larger than a grain of corn, and
+dissolving them in a large half-pint of clear water, either warm or
+cold. Pick the gum tragacanth very clean, freeing it carefully from all
+dust and impurities. Put it with the corrosive sublimate into a white or
+queensware vessel having a close cover, and holding a pint, to allow for
+swelling. Pour on the water; cover it closely; and stir it _with a
+stick_, several times during the day. When sufficiently dissolved, the
+paste will be smooth throughout. The corrosive sublimate will cause it
+to keep good for a year or more; and it is an excellent and most
+convenient cement for all purposes, from wall-paper to artificial
+flowers. It must on no account be kept in a metal vessel or be stirred
+with a metal spoon, as it will then turn black. No house should be
+without this paste--and it should find a place in every library and
+office. When it is nearly used up, and becomes dry at the bottom, pour
+on a little water, and it will dissolve again.
+
+Make no remarks with pen or pencil on the margin of any book that does
+not belong to yourself. Whatever may be your own opinion of certain
+passages, you have no right to disturb other readers by obtruding upon
+them these opinions, unasked for. The pleasure of reading a book from a
+public library, is frequently marred by finding, as you proceed, that
+some impertinent fools have been before you, and scribbled their silly
+comments all through; or indulged in sneers and vituperations directed
+at the author. You may lessen this annoyance by turning over all the
+leaves before you begin reading, and erasing all the marginal remarks
+with India rubber; and this will also be an act of kindness to the next
+reader after yourself. When written with ink, (as is often the case,)
+there is no remedy; and you must endure the infliction of being annoyed
+throughout the book by these gratuitous criticisms. In a book, even
+belonging to yourself, it is well to use the pencil sparingly; and only
+to correct an error of the press, or a chronological mistake of the
+author. All readers like to form their own opinions as they go along,
+without any prompting from those who have preceded them.
+
+Never, on any consideration, allow yourself to lend a borrowed book. If
+requested to do so, it should be a sufficient excuse to say that "it is
+not your own." But if still urged, persist in declining steadily; for it
+is a liberty you have no right to take with any article belonging to
+another. Even if the owner is your sister, you should lend nothing of
+hers without first obtaining her permission. Whatever you borrow
+yourself, should pass safely from your hands to those of the owner. If a
+friend of yours is very desirous of reading a borrowed book, and has no
+other means of obtaining it, and you think you can depend on her
+carefulness and punctuality, (not else,) you may promise "to request for
+her the favour." And when the owner has consented, (and not till then,)
+you may transfer the book to the new borrower with strict injunctions to
+take great care of it, and to return it as soon as possible.
+
+I have known a borrowed book travel round a whole circle of relations
+and acquaintances, till, when sent home at last, it was literally worn
+out by dint of use. And this when nearly the whole set were persons who
+could well afford to buy all they were desirous of reading. Many ladies
+like very well to read when they can do so at the cost of their friends;
+but they seem to regard the purchase of any thing to improve the mind,
+or amuse the fancy, as throwing away money which they would expend more
+to their satisfaction in articles of personal decoration. And is it not
+melancholy to see an intelligent child craving in vain for books, while
+bedizened with finery to gratify the vanity of an ostentatious mother?
+
+If, with the permission of the owner, you have lent a borrowed book to a
+person who, having lost or injured it, still has the presumption to ask
+you to intercede for the loan of another, you are bound to refuse the
+request; and do so with civility but steadiness, assigning the true
+reason. It may be a salutary lesson to that borrower.
+
+Remember never to send home any article in a wrapper of newspaper. Keep
+always in the house a supply of good wrapping-paper, bought for the
+purpose, and also of balls of twine. For putting up small things, what
+is called shoe-paper is very useful. It is both nice and cheap, selling
+from fifty to sixty cents per ream, according to the size, and there are
+twenty quires in a ream. There are varieties of stronger and larger
+wrapping-paper for articles that require such, and for parcels that are
+to be sent to far-off places, or to go by public conveyances. Such
+packages are best secured by red tape and sealing-wax. At every
+stationer's may be purchased all varieties of paper.
+
+Be particularly careful of borrowed magazines, as the loss of one number
+spoils a whole set, and you may find great difficulty in replacing a
+lost number. Even a newspaper should be punctually returned. The owner
+may wish to file it, or to send it away to a friend. If lost or defaced
+while in your possession, send to the publishing-office and buy another.
+It is unsafe to leave the book you are reading in the parlour of a
+hotel. Always carry it away with you, whenever you quit the
+room--otherwise you will be likely to see it no more.
+
+In America, books are so cheap (not to mention the numerous public
+libraries) that in most instances all who can afford it had better buy
+than borrow, particularly such works as are worth a second reading. If
+you find your books accumulating inconveniently, give away a portion of
+them to some lover of reading, who, less fortunate than yourself, is
+unable to expend much money with the booksellers.
+
+I have often wondered to see a fair young stranger sitting day after
+day, idle and listless in the drawing-room of a hotel, when she might
+have known that there were bookstores in the immediate neighbourhood.
+
+If, while in your possession, a borrowed book is irreparably injured, it
+is your duty to replace it by purchasing for the owner another copy.
+And, if that cannot be procured, all you can do is to buy a work of
+equal value, and to present _that_, as the only compensation in your
+power. Observe the same rule with all borrowed articles, lost or
+injured. The lender is surely not the person to suffer from the
+carelessness of the borrower. Leave no borrowed books in the way of
+children, and never give a young child a book to play with. Eat no cake
+or fruit over an open book, lest it be greased or stained. And take care
+not to blister or spoil the binding by putting it down in a wet place,
+for instance, on a slopped table.
+
+Some young ladies have a bad habit of biting their fingers, especially
+if they rejoice in handsome hands; and the same ladies, by way of
+variety, are prone to bite the corners of books, and the edges of
+closed fans. So it is dangerous to trust these articles in their
+vicinity. We have seen the corners of an elegant Annual nearly bitten
+off at a centre-table in the course of one evening. And we have seen
+ice-cream eaten and wine drank over an open port-folio of beautiful
+engravings.
+
+By-the-bye, in taking up a print to look at it, always extend it
+carefully with both hands, that the paper may be in no danger of
+cracking or rumpling, which it cannot escape if held but in one hand,
+particularly if there is a breeze blowing near it. To show a large
+engraving without risk of injury, spread it out smoothly on a table;
+keeping it flat by means of books or other weights, laid carefully down
+on the corners, and, if the plate is _very_ large, at the sides also.
+And let no one lean their elbows upon it.
+
+It is an irksome task to show any sort of picture to people who have
+neither taste, knowledge, nor enjoyment of the art. There are persons
+(ungenteel ones, it is true) who seem to have no other pleasure, when
+looking at a fine print or picture, than in trying to discover in the
+figures or faces, fancied resemblances to those of some individuals of
+their own circle: loudly declaring for instance, that, "Queen Victoria
+is the very image of Sarah Smith;" "Prince Albert an exact likeness of
+Dick Brown;" "the Duke of Wellington the very ditto of old Captain
+Jones," &c. &c. To those "who have no painting in their souls," there is
+little use in showing or explaining any fine specimen of that noblest of
+the fine arts. We have heard a gentleman doubting whether a capital
+portrait of Franklin was not General Washington in his everyday dress.
+We could fill pages with the absurd remarks we have heard on pictures,
+even from persons who have had a costly education put at them. There are
+ladies who can with difficulty be made to understand the difference
+between a painting and an engraving--others who think that "the same man
+always makes both." Some call a coloured print a painting--others
+talk[16] of themselves _painting pictures_ in albums--not understanding
+that, properly speaking, they are water-colour drawings when done on
+paper and with transparent tintings--while _pictures_ are painted with
+oil or opaque colours on canvas or board. Frescoes are painted on new
+walls before the plastering is quite dry, so that the colours
+incorporate at once with the plaster, and dry along with it; acquiring
+in that manner a surprising permanency.
+
+There is another very common error, that of calling a diorama a
+panorama. A panorama, correctly speaking, is a large circular
+representation of one place only, (such as Rome, Athens, Thebes, Paris,)
+comprising as much as the eye can take in at a view. The spectators,
+looking from an elevated platform in the centre, see the painting all
+around them in every direction, and appearing the size of reality, but
+always stationary. The panoramas exhibited successively in London by
+Barker, Burford, Catherwood and others, are admirable and truthful views
+of the places they represent; and after viewing them a few minutes, you
+can scarcely believe that you are not actually there, and looking at
+real objects. A few of these triumphs of perspective and colouring, have
+been brought to America. It were much to be wished that an arrangement
+could be made for conveying every one of these fine panoramas
+successively across the Atlantic, and exhibiting them in all our
+principal cities. It would be a good speculation.
+
+It is difficult to imagine whence originated the mistake of calling a
+diorama a panorama, which it is _not_. A diorama is one of those
+numerous flat-surface paintings of which we have had so many, (and some
+few of them very good,) and which, moving on unseen rollers, glide or
+slide along, displaying every few minutes a new portion of the scenery.
+
+The error has grown so common that persons fall habitually into it,
+though knowing all the time that it _is_ an error. To correct it, let
+the exhibiters of dioramas cease to call them _panoramas_, and give them
+their proper name, both in their advertisements and in their verbal
+descriptions. Sebron's magnificent representation of the departure of
+the Israelites, that looked so amazingly real, was not a diorama, for it
+did not move, and not a panorama, for it was not circular. But it was a
+colossal picture, so excellent that at the first glance it seemed to be
+no picture at all, but the real scene, with the real people.
+
+FOOTNOTES:
+
+[15] In buying a _handsome_ parasol or umbrella, see that it has a
+folding-joint in the middle of the stick, and that this joint works
+easily, so that there may be no difficulty in packing it in a trunk or
+box. To prevent the silk being rubbed, tie up the parasol in a smooth
+linen case, previous to packing.
+
+[16] We were a few years since, told by one of our principal booksellers
+that a young lady came into his store when he chanced to be at the
+counter himself, and, showing him a small English prayer-book elegantly
+bound, and with fine engravings, she enquired if he had any exactly like
+that. On his replying in the negative, she desired that he would get
+precisely such a prayer-book _made for her_, in time for church on
+Sunday morning--(it was then Friday)--as she had set her mind on it. It
+must have just such pictures, and just such a beautiful gilt cover. He
+endeavoured in vain to convince her of the utter impossibility of
+performing this feat of having one single book printed, and bound, with
+plates engraved purposely for it, and all in the space of a day and a
+half. She seemed much displeased, and went away, in search, as she said,
+of a bookseller that was more obliging.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+OFFENCES.
+
+
+If the visits of an acquaintance become less frequent than formerly, the
+falling off is not always to be imputed to want of regard for you, or to
+having lost all pleasure in your society. The cause may be want of time,
+removal to a distance, precarious health, care of children, absence from
+town, family troubles, depressed fortunes, and various other
+circumstances. Also, with none of these causes, visiting may gradually
+and almost insensibly decline, and neither of the parties have the
+slightest dislike to each other. If no offence has been intended, none
+should be taken; and when you chance to meet, instead of consuming the
+time in complaints of estrangement, meet as if your intercourse had
+never been interrupted, and you will find it very easy to renew it; and
+perhaps on a better footing than before. The renewal should be marked by
+a prompt interchange of special invitations--followed by visits.
+
+Unless your rooms are spacious, you cannot have what is called a large
+general party. Some of your acquaintances must be omitted, and all that
+are left out, are generally offended. Therefore it is not well ever to
+have such parties, unless your accommodations are ample. _Squeezes_ are
+out of fashion in the best American society. We have heard of parties at
+great houses in London, where, after the rooms were crowded to
+suffocation, a large portion of the company had to pass the evening on
+the stairs; and where coaches, unable to draw up from the immense number
+of these vehicles that were in advance, had to remain all night at the
+foot of the line, with ladies sitting in them. When morning came, they
+had to turn back, and drive home, the carriages being all they saw of
+the party.
+
+It is better to give two or three moderate entertainments in the course
+of the season, than to crowd your rooms uncomfortably; and even then to
+risk giving offence to those who could not be added to the number.
+
+If such offence has been given, try to atone for it by inviting the
+offended to dine with you, or to pass an evening, and asking at the same
+time a few pleasant people whom you know she likes.
+
+You may have a very intimate and sincere friend who does not find it
+convenient to send for you every time she has company. If, in all things
+else, she treats you with uniform kindness, and gives reason to believe
+that she has a true affection for you, pass over these occasional
+omissions of invitation, and do not call her to account, or treat her
+coolly when you see her. True friendship ought not depend upon
+_parties_. It should be based on a better foundation.
+
+If no answer is returned to a note of invitation, be not hasty in
+supposing that the omission has sprung from rudeness or neglect. Trust
+that your friend is neither rude nor neglectful; and believe that the
+answer was duly sent, but that it miscarried from some accidental
+circumstance.
+
+A friend may inadvertently say something that you do not like to hear,
+or may make a remark that is not pleasant to you. Unless it is prefaced
+with a _previous_ apology; or unless she desires you "not to be offended
+at what she is going to say;" or unless she informs you that "she
+considers it her duty always to speak her mind,"--you have no right to
+suppose the offence premeditated, and therefore you should restrain your
+temper, and calmly endeavour to convince her that she is wrong; or else
+acknowledge that she is right. She ought then to apologize for what she
+said, and you should immediately change the subject, and never again
+refer to it. In this way quarrels may be prevented, and ill-feeling
+crushed in the bud. When what is called "a coolness" takes place between
+friends, the longer it goes on the more difficult it is to get over. But
+"better late than never." If, on consideration, you find that _you_ were
+in the wrong, let no false pride, no stubborn perverseness prevent you
+from making that acknowledgement. If your friend, on her part, first
+shows a desire for reconciliation, meet her half-way. A vindictive
+disposition is a bad one, and revenge is a most unchristian feeling.
+People of sense (unless the injury is very great, and of lasting
+consequences) are easy to appease, because they generally have good
+feelings, and know how to listen to reason. Dr. Watts most truly says--
+
+    "The wise will let their anger cool,
+      At least before 'tis night;
+    But in the bosom of a fool,
+      It burns till morning light."
+
+Should you chance to be thrown into the presence of persons who have
+proved themselves your enemies, and with whom you can have no
+intercourse, say nothing either _to_ them or _at_ them; and do not place
+yourself in their vicinity. To talk _at_ a person, is mean and vulgar.
+Those who do it are fully capable of writing anonymous and insulting
+letters; and they often do so. High-minded people will always be
+scrupulously careful in observing toward those with whom they are at
+variance, all the ceremonies usual in polite society--particularly the
+conventional civilities of the table.
+
+If you have, unfortunately, had a quarrel with a friend, talk of it to
+others as little as possible; lest in the heat of anger, you may give an
+exaggerated account, and represent your adversary in darker colours than
+she deserves. You may be very sure these misrepresentations will reach
+her ear, and be greatly magnified by every successive relater. In this
+way a trifle may be swelled into importance; a mole-hill may become a
+mountain; and a slight affront may embitter the feelings of future
+years. "Blessed are the peacemakers,"--and a mutual friend, if
+well-disposed toward both opponents, generally has it in her power to
+effect a reconciliation, by repeating, kindly, any favourable remark
+she may chance to have heard one of the offended parties make on the
+other. In truth, we wish it were the universal custom for all people to
+tell other people whatever good they may hear of them--instead of the
+wicked and hateful practice of telling only the bad. Make it a rule to
+repeat to your friends all the pleasant remarks that (as far as you
+know) are made on them, and you will increase their happiness, and your
+own popularity. We do not mean that you should flatter them, by reciting
+compliments that are not true; but truth is not flattery, and there is
+no reason why agreeable truths should not always be told. There would
+then be far more kind feeling in the world. Few persons are so bad as
+not to have some good in them. Let them hear of the good. Few are so
+ugly as not to have about them something commendable even externally, if
+it is only a becoming dress. Let them hear of that dress. Flattery is
+praise without foundation. To tell a person with heavy, dull gray eyes,
+that her eyes are of a bright and beautiful blue; to talk of her golden
+locks to a woman with positive red hair of the tint called carroty; to
+tell a long, thin, stoop-shouldered girl, that she possesses the light
+and airy form of a sylph; or a short-necked, fat one that her figure has
+the dignity of an empress; to assure a faded matron that she looks like
+a young girl; to fall into raptures on listening to bad music, or when
+viewing a drawing that depicts nothing intelligible; or praising album
+poetry that has neither "rhyme nor reason,"--all this is gross
+flattery, which the object (if she has any sense) will easily detect,
+and suspect that you are trying experiments on her vanity and credulity.
+
+Still where agreeable qualities _really_ exist, it is not amiss to
+allude to them delicately. It will give pleasure without compromising
+veracity.
+
+When any thing complimentary is said to you, acknowledge it by a bow and
+smile, but do not attempt an answer unless you can say something in
+return that will be equally sincere and pleasant. Most probably you
+cannot; therefore look gratified, and bow your thanks, but remain
+silent. Few ladies are distinguished, like the Harriet Byron of
+Grandison, "for a very pretty manner of returning a compliment." Do not
+reject the compliment by pretending to prove that you do not deserve it.
+But if it is a piece of bare-faced flattery, the best answer is to look
+gravely, and say or do nothing.
+
+Should you chance accidentally to overhear a remark to your
+disadvantage, consider first if there may not be some truth in it. If
+you feel that there is, turn it to profitable account, and try to
+improve, or to get rid of the fault, whatever it may be. But never show
+resentment at any thing not intended for your ear, unless it is
+something of such vital importance as to render it necessary that you
+should come forward in self-defence. These instances, however, are of
+rare occurrence.
+
+If you are so placed that you can hear the conversation of persons who
+are talking about you, it is very mean to sit there and listen.
+Immediately remove to a distance far enough to be out of hearing.
+
+It is a proverb that listeners seldom hear any good of themselves. It
+were a pity if they should. Eavesdropping or listening beneath an open
+window, the crack of a door, or through a key-hole, are as dishonourable
+as to pick pockets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+OBLIGATIONS TO GENTLEMEN.
+
+
+In her intercourse with gentlemen, a lady should take care to avoid all
+pecuniary obligations. The civility that a gentleman conventionally owes
+to a lady is a sufficient tax--more she has no right to expect, or to
+accept. A man of good sense, and of true politeness, will not be
+offended at her unwillingness to become his debtor. On the contrary, he
+will respect her delicacy, and approve her dignity; and consent at once
+to her becoming her own banker on all occasions where expense is to be
+incurred. This is the custom in Europe; and is, in most cases, a very
+good one.
+
+When invited to join a party to a place of amusement, let her consent,
+if she wishes; but let her state expressly that it is only on condition
+of being permitted to pay for her own ticket. If she steadily adheres to
+this custom, it will soon be understood that such is always her
+commendable practice; and she can then, with perfect propriety, at any
+time, ask for a seat among friends who intend going. To this
+accommodation she could not invite herself, if in the continual habit of
+visiting public places at the expense of others. The best time for a
+lady to pay for herself is to put her money into the hand of the
+gentleman _previous_ to their departure for the place of performance.
+He will not be so rude as to refuse to take it. If he does refuse, she
+should evince her resentment by going with him no more.
+
+Young men of limited means are frequently drawn into expenses they can
+ill afford, by being acquainted with young ladies who profess a passion
+for equestrian exercises--a most inconvenient passion for one who has
+not a horse of her own, or who lives in a family where no horses are
+kept. If her gentleman is obliged to hire, not only a horse for himself,
+but also one for the lady, let her have sufficient consideration _not_
+to propose to him that they should take rides together--and let her not
+draw him into an invitation, by her dwelling excessively on the delight
+of horseback excursions. In cities, these rides are expensive luxuries
+to those who keep no horses. Few city ladies ride well, (even if they
+have been at riding-school,) for want of daily practice out of doors.
+They are not exactly at ease on the horse, and always seem somewhat
+afraid of him; at least till they are "off the stones," and out in the
+open country. While in the streets, the rare sight of a lady on
+horseback attracts much attention, and a crowd of boys gathers round to
+see her mount her steed, or alight from it. This to a young lady of
+delicacy is very embarrassing, or ought to be.
+
+In the country, the case is totally different. There, "practice makes
+perfect." The ladies, being accustomed to riding their own horses from
+childhood, acquire the art without any trouble, have no fear, feel
+perfectly at home in the saddle, and therefore sit gracefully, and
+manage their steeds easily. And as every country gentleman has a
+riding-horse of his own, he can accompany a lady without the expense of
+hiring.
+
+Lay no wagers with gentlemen, and have no philopenas with them. In
+betting with a lady, it is customary for the gentleman to pay whether he
+wins or loses. What then does the wager imply, but a rapacious and mean
+desire on the part of the lady to "get a present out of him"--as such
+ladies would express it. No delicate and refined female ever bets at
+all. It is a very coarse and masculine way of asserting an opinion or a
+belief; and always reminds gentlemen of the race-course, or the
+gaming-table.
+
+We disapprove of ladies going to charity-fairs in the evening, when they
+require a male escort--and when that escort is likely to be drawn into
+paying exorbitant prices for gifts to his fair companion--particularly,
+if induced to do so from the fear of appearing mean, or of being thought
+wanting in benevolence. In the evening, the young ladies who "have
+tables," are apt to become especially importunate in urging the sale of
+their goods--and appear to great disadvantage as imitation-shop-keepers,
+exhibiting a boldness in teazing that no real saleswoman would presume
+to display. Then the crowd is generally great; the squeezing and pushing
+very uncomfortable; and most of the company far from genteel. Ladies who
+_are_ ladies, should only visit fancy-fairs in the day-time, when they
+can go without gentlemen; none of whom take much pleasure in this mode
+of raising money; or rather of levying contributions for special
+purposes. There are other ways that are more lady-like, more effective,
+less fatiguing, and more satisfactory to all concerned--and far less
+detrimental to the interests of the numerous poor women who get their
+living by their needles, or by their ingenuity in making ornamental
+nick-nacks for sale, and who ask but a fair price for them. Dress-makers
+are frequently induced to keep back portions of silk, the rightful
+property of their customers, who may afterwards be put to great
+inconvenience for want of them, when the dress is to be altered or
+repaired. And these pieces are given to the ladies who go about begging
+for materials to make pincushions, &c. for fancy-fairs. This is
+dishonest. Let them go to a store and buy small pieces of silk, velvet,
+ribbon, and whatever they want for these purposes.
+
+If you have occasion to send by a gentleman a package to a
+transportation-office, give him along with it the money to pay for its
+carriage. If you borrow change, (even one cent,) return it to him
+punctually. He ought to take it as a thing of course, without any
+comment. When you commission him to buy any thing for you, if you know
+the price, give the money beforehand; otherwise, pay it as soon as he
+brings the article. Do all such things promptly, lest they should escape
+your memory if delayed.
+
+When visiting a fancy-store with a gentleman, refrain from excessively
+admiring any handsome or expensive article you may chance to see there.
+Above all, express no wish that you were able to buy it, and no regret
+that you cannot, lest he should construe these extreme tokens of
+admiration into hints that you wish him to buy it for you. To allow him
+to do so, would on your part be very mean and indelicate, and on his
+very foolish.
+
+It ought to be a very painful office (and is a very improper one) for
+young ladies to go round soliciting from gentlemen subscriptions for
+charitable purposes. Still it is done. Subscription-papers should only
+be offered by persons somewhat advanced in life, and of undoubted
+respectability--and then the application should be made, exclusively, to
+those whose circumstances are known to be affluent. People who have not
+much to give, generally prefer giving that little to objects of charity
+within their own knowledge. Who is there that does not know a poor
+family? And without actually giving money, (which in too many instances,
+is immediately appropriated by a drunken husband to supply himself with
+more drink,) much may be done to procure a few comforts for a miserable
+wife and children.
+
+When you ask money for a charitable purpose, do so only when quite alone
+with the person to whom you apply. It is taking an undue advantage to
+make the request in presence of others--particularly if, as before
+observed, there is not wealth as well as benevolence. There is a time
+for all things--and young ladies are deservedly unpopular when, even in
+the cause of charity, they seize every opportunity to levy contributions
+on the purses of gentlemen.
+
+It is wrong to trouble gentlemen with commissions that may cause them
+inconvenience or expense. In the awful days of bandboxes, unfortunate
+young men riding in stages were sometimes required to convey one of
+these cumbrous receptacles of bonnets and caps a day's journey upon
+their knees, to save it from rain outside. Sometimes an immense package
+containing an immense shawl. We knew an officer who, by particular
+desire, actually carried _three_ great shawls several hundred miles;
+each bundle to be delivered at a different house in "the City of
+Magnificent Distances." But as to officers, "sufferance is the badge of
+all their tribe." Now these shawls should all have been sent by the
+public line, even if the transportation _did_ cost something.
+
+We repeat, that a lady cannot be too particular in placing herself under
+obligations to a gentleman. She should scrupulously avoid it in every
+little thing that may involve him in expense on her account. And he will
+respect her the more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+CONDUCT TO LITERARY WOMEN.
+
+
+On being introduced to a female writer, it is rude to say that "you have
+long had a great _curiosity_ to see her." Curiosity is not the right
+word. It is polite to imply that, "knowing her well by reputation, you
+are glad to have an opportunity of making her personal acquaintance."
+Say nothing concerning her writings, unless you chance to be alone with
+her. Take care not to speak of her first work as being her best; for if
+it is really so, she must have been retrograding from that time; a
+falling off that she will not like to hear of. Perhaps the truth may be,
+that you yourself have read only her _first_ work; and if you tell her
+this, she will not be much flattered in supposing that you, in reality,
+cared so little for her first book, as to feel no desire to try a
+second. But she will be really gratified to learn that you are
+acquainted with most of her writings; and, in the course of
+conversation, it will be very pleasant for her to hear you quote
+something from them.
+
+If she is a writer of fiction, and you presume to take the liberty of
+criticising her works, (as you may at her own request, or if you are
+her intimate friend,) refrain from urging that certain incidents are
+_improbable_, and certain characters _unnatural_. Of this it is
+impossible for you to judge, unless you could have lived the very same
+life that she has; known exactly the same people; and inhabited with
+her the same places. Remember always that "Truth is stranger than
+fiction." The French say--"Le vrai n'est pas toujours le plus
+vraisemblable,"--which, literally translated, means that "Truth is not
+always the most truth-like." Also, be it understood that a woman of
+quick perception and good memory can see and recollect a thousand
+things which would never be noticed or remembered by an obtuse or
+shallow, common-place capacity. And the intellect of a good writer of
+fiction is always brightened by the practice of taking in and laying
+up ideas with a view toward turning them to professional use. Trust in
+her, and believe that she _has_ painted from life. A sensible
+fictionist always does. At the same time, be not too curious in
+questioning her as to the identity of her personages and the reality
+of her incidents. You have no right to expect that she will expose to
+you, or to any one else, her process of arranging the story, bringing
+out the characters, or concocting the dialogue. The machinery of her
+work, and the hidden springs which set it in motion, she naturally
+wishes to keep to herself; and she cannot be expected to lay them bare
+for the gratification of impertinent curiosity, letting them become
+subjects of idle gossip. Be satisfied to take her works as you find
+them. If you like them, read and commend them; but do not ask her to
+conduct you behind the scenes, and show you the mysteries of her
+art--for writing is really an art, and one that cannot be acquired, to
+any advantage, without a certain amount of talent, taste, and
+cultivation, to say nothing of genius. What right have you to expect
+that your literary friend will trust you with "the secrets of her
+prison-house," and put it into your power to betray her confidence by
+acquainting the world that a certain popular novelist has informed you
+with her own lips ("but it must on no account be mentioned, as the
+disclosure would give mortal offence, and create for her hosts of
+enemies,") that by her character of Fanny Gadfly she really means Lucy
+Giddings; that Mr. Hardcastle signifies Mr. Stone; that Old Wigmore
+was modelled on no less a person than Isaac Baldwin; that Mrs.
+Bastings was taken from Mrs. Sunning; and Mrs. Babes from Mrs.
+Childers--&c. &c. Also, do not expect her to tell you on what facts
+her incidents were founded, and whether there was any truth in them,
+or if they were mere invention.
+
+Be not inquisitive as to the length of time consumed in writing this
+book or that--or how soon the work now on hand will be finished. It can
+scarcely be any concern of yours, and the writer may have reasons for
+keeping back the information. Rest assured that whenever a public
+announcement of a new book is expedient, it will certainly be made in
+print.
+
+There are persons so rude as to question a literary woman (even on a
+slight acquaintance) as to the remuneration she receives for her
+writings--in plain terms, "How much did you get for that? and how much
+are you to have for this? And how much do you make in the course of a
+year? And how much a page do you get? And how many pages can you write
+in a day?"
+
+To any impertinent questions from a stranger-lady concerning the profits
+of your pen, reply concisely, that these things are secrets between
+yourself and your publishers. If you kindly condescend to answer without
+evasion, these polite enquiries, you will probably hear such
+exclamations as, "Why, really--you must be coining money. I think I'll
+write books myself! There can't be a better trade," &c.
+
+Ignorant people always suppose that popular writers are wonderfully
+well-paid--and must be making rapid fortunes--because they neither
+starve in garrets, nor wear rags--at least in America.
+
+Never ask one writer what is her _real_ opinion of a cotemporary author.
+She may be unwilling to entrust it to you, as she can have no guarantee
+that you will not whisper it round till it gets into print. If she
+voluntarily expresses her own opinion of another writer, and it _is_
+unfavourable, be honourable enough not to repeat it; but guard it
+sedulously from betrayal, and avoid mentioning it to any one.
+
+When in company with literary women, make no allusions to "learned
+ladies," or "blue stockings," or express surprise that they should have
+any knowledge of housewifery, or needle-work, or dress; or that they are
+able to talk on "common things." It is rude and foolish, and shows that
+you really know nothing about them, either as a class or as
+individuals.
+
+Never tell an authoress that "you are afraid of her"--or entreat her
+"not to put you into a book." Be assured there is no danger.
+
+An authoress has seldom leisure to entertain morning visiters; so much
+of her time being professionally occupied either in writing, or in
+reading what will prepare her for writing. She should apprize all her
+friends of the hours in which she is usually engaged; and then none who
+are really her friends and well-wishers, will encroach upon her
+convenience for any purpose of their own; unless under extraordinary
+circumstances. To tell her that you were "just passing by," or "just in
+the neighbourhood," and "just thought you would stop in," is a very
+selfish, or at least a very inconsiderate excuse. Is she to suppose that
+you do not consider her conversation worthy of a visit made on purpose?
+
+Recollect that to a woman who gets her living by her pen, "time is
+money," as it is to an artist. Therefore, encroaching on her time is
+lessening her income. And yet how often is this done (either heedlessly
+or selfishly) by persons professing to be her friends, and who are
+habitually in the practice of interrupting her in her writing hours,
+which should always be in the morning, if possible. They think it
+sufficient to say, like Paul Pry, "I hope I don't intrude"--knowing all
+the time that they _do_, and pretending to believe her when civility
+obliges her to tell them they do _not_. Even if the visit is not a long
+one, it is still an interruption. In one minute it may break a chain of
+ideas which cannot be reunited, dispel thoughts that can never be
+recalled, disturb the construction of a sentence, and obliterate a
+recollection that will not return. And to all this the literary lady
+must submit, because her so-called friend "chanced to be out that
+morning shopping"--or "happened to be visiting in that part of the
+town"--and therefore has called on _her_ by way of "killing two birds
+with one stone." Very likely, the visiter will say to the unfortunate
+visited, "I know it is inconvenient to you to see your friends in the
+morning, but I never feel like going out in the afternoon. As soon as
+dinner is over I must have my nap; and by the time that is finished, it
+is too late for any thing else."
+
+In consequence of these ill-timed visits, the printer may have to send
+in vain for "copy" that is not yet ready; and an article written
+expressly for a magazine may arrive too late for the next month, and be
+therefore deferred a month later, which may subject her not only to
+inconvenience, but to actual pecuniary loss--loss of money. Or, at
+least, the interruption may compel her to the painful effort of trying
+to finish it even by sitting up late at night, and straining her weary
+eyes by lamp-light. Yet this she must endure because it suits an idle
+and thoughtless _friend_ to make her a long and inopportune visit. The
+children of the pen and the pencil might say to these intruders, like
+the frogs in the pond when the boys were pelting them with stones--"This
+may be sport to you, but it is death to us."
+
+If, when admitted into her study, you should find her writing-table in
+what appears to you like great confusion, recollect that there is
+really no wit in a remark too common on such occasions,--"Why, you look
+quite _littery_,"--a poor play on the words _literary_ and _litter_. In
+all probability, she knows precisely where to lay her hand upon every
+paper on the table: having in reality placed them exactly to suit her
+convenience. Though their arrangement may be quite unintelligible to the
+uninitiated, there is no doubt method (her own method, at least) in
+their apparent disorder. It is not likely she may have time to put her
+writing table in nice-looking order every day. To have it done by
+servants is out of the question, as _they_ would make "confusion worse
+confounded;" being of course unable to comprehend how _such a table_
+should be arranged.
+
+If you chance to find an authoress occupied with her needle, express no
+astonishment, and refrain from exclaiming, "What! can _you_ sew?" or, "I
+never supposed a literary lady could even hem a handkerchief!"
+
+This is a false, and if expressed in words, an insulting idea. A large
+number of literary females are excellent needle-women, and good
+housewives; and there is no reason why they should not be. The same
+vigour of character and activity of intellect which renders a woman a
+_good_ writer, will also enable her to acquire with a quickness, almost
+intuitive, a competent knowledge of household affairs, and of the art of
+needle-work. And she will find, upon making the attempt, that, with a
+little time and a little perseverance, she may become as notable a
+personage (both in theory and practice) as if she had never read a
+book, or written a page.
+
+The Dora of David Copperfield is an admirable illustration of the fact
+that a silly, illiterate woman may be the worst of housewives. Dickens
+has unquestionably painted this character exactly from life. But that he
+always does. He must have known a Dora. And who has not?
+
+If you find your literary friend in deshabille, and she apologizes for
+it--(she had best _not_ apologize)--tell her not that "authoresses are
+privileged persons, and are never expected to pay any attention to
+dress." Now, literary slatterns are not more frequent than slatterns who
+are not literary. It is true that women of enlarged minds, and really
+good taste, do not think it necessary to follow closely all the changes
+and follies of fashion, and to wear things that are inconvenient,
+uncomfortable, and unbecoming, merely because milliners, dress-makers,
+&c. have pronounced them "the last new style."
+
+It is ill-manners to refer in any way to the profession of the person to
+whom you are talking, unless that person is an intimate friend, and you
+are alone with her; and unless she herself begins the subject. Still
+worse, to allude to their profession as if you supposed it rendered them
+different from the rest of the world, and marked them with peculiarities
+from which other people are exempt.
+
+It is true that authorlings and poetizers are apt to affect
+eccentricity. Real authors, and even real poets, (by real we mean good
+ones,) have generally a large portion of common sense to balance their
+genius, and are therefore seldom guilty of the queernesses unjustly
+imputed to the whole fraternity.
+
+When in company with a literary lady with whom you are not on very
+confidential terms, it is bad taste to talk to her exclusively of books,
+and to endeavour to draw out her opinion of authors with whom she is
+personally acquainted--and whom she will, of course, be unwilling to
+criticise, (at least in miscellaneous society,) lest her remarks should
+be invidiously or imprudently repeated, and even get into print. "Any
+thing new in the literary world?" is a question by which some people
+always commence conversation with an author. Why should it be supposed
+that they always "carry the shop along with them," or that they take no
+interest or pleasure in things not connected with books. On the
+contrary, they are glad to be allowed the privilege of unbending like
+other people. And a good writer is almost always a good talker, and
+fully capable of conversing well on various subjects. Try her.
+
+It was beautifully said of Jane Taylor, the charming author of a popular
+and never-tiring little book of "Original Poems for Children," that "you
+only knew that the stream of literature had passed over her mind by the
+fertility it left behind it."
+
+We have witnessed, when two distinguished lady-writers chanced to be at
+the same party, an unmannerly disposition to "pit them against each
+other"--placing them side by side, or _vis-a-vis_, and saying something
+about, "When Greek meets Greek," &c., and absolutely collecting a
+circle round them, to be amused or edified by the expected dialogue.
+This is rude and foolish.
+
+It is not treating a talented woman with due consideration, to be active
+in introducing to her the silliest and flattest people in the room,
+because the said flats have been worked up into a desire of seeing, face
+to face, "a live authoress"--though in all probability they have not
+read one of her works.
+
+That notorious lion-hunter, the Countess of Cork, was so candid as to
+say to certain celebrated writers, "I'll sit by _you_ because you are
+famous." To a very charming American lady whom she was persuading to
+come to her party, she frankly added, "My dear, you really must not
+refuse me. Don't you know you are my decoy-duck."
+
+There are mothers (called pattern-mothers) who uphold the theory that
+every thing in the world must bend to the advantage (real or supposed)
+of children, that is, of their own children--and who have continually on
+their lips the saying, "a mother's first duty is to her children." So it
+is, and it is her duty not to render them vain, impertinent, conceited,
+and obtrusive, by allowing them to suppose that they must on all
+occasions be brought forward; and that their mother's visiters have
+nothing to do but to improve and amuse _them_. Therefore a literary lady
+often receives a more than hint from such a mother to talk only on
+edifying subjects when the dear little creatures are present; and then
+the conversation is required to take a Penny-Magazine tone,
+exclusively--the darlings being, most probably, restless and impatient
+all the time, the girls sitting uneasily on their chairs and looking
+tired, and the boys suddenly bolting out of the room to get back to
+their sports. It is true the children will be less impatient if the
+visiter will trouble herself to "tell them stories" all the time; but it
+is rude to ask her to do so.
+
+When directing a letter to "a woman of letters," it is not considered
+polite to insert the word "Authoress" after her name. And yet we have
+seen this done by persons who ought to know better. If you are
+unacquainted with the number and street of her residence, direct to the
+care of her publisher; whose place you may always find, by referring to
+the title-page of one of her last works, and by seeing his
+advertisements in the newspapers. The booksellers always know where
+their authors are to be found. So do the printers--for their boys convey
+the proof-sheets.
+
+Observe that the term "learned lady" is not correctly applied to a
+female, unless she has successfully cultivated what is understood to be
+the learning of colleges--for instance, the dead languages, &c.
+Unfortunately, the term is now seldom used but in derision, and to
+denote a woman whose studies have been entirely of the masculine order.
+You may speak of a well-informed, well-read, talented, intellectual,
+accomplished lady; but call her not _learned_, unless she is well-versed
+in the Greek and Latin classics, and able to discuss them from their
+original language. Even then, spare her the appellation of _learned_, if
+gentlemen are present. In the dark ages, when not every lady could read
+and write, the few that _were_ entitled to the "benefit of clergy,"
+frequently "drank deep in tasting the Pierian spring," and proceeded to
+study the learned languages with great success; for instance, Lady Jane
+Grey and Queen Elizabeth.
+
+In desiring the autograph of a literary lady, do not expect her to write
+in your album "a piece of poetry." Be satisfied with her signature only.
+There is a spice of meanness in requesting from her, as a gift, any
+portion of her stock in trade. As well might you ask Mr. Stewart, or Mr.
+Levy, to present you with an embroidered collar, or a pair of gloves.
+For the same reason, never request an artist to "draw something" in your
+album. It is only amateur poets, and amateur artists, that can afford to
+write and draw in albums. Those who make a living by their profession,
+have no time to spare for gratuitous performances; and it is as wrong to
+ask them, as it is to invite public singers to "favour the company with
+a song" at private parties, where they are invited as guests. It is,
+however, not unusual for professional musicians to kindly and politely
+gratify the company by inviting themselves to sing; saying, "Perhaps you
+would like to hear my last song." And sometimes, if quite "in the vein,"
+a real poet, when modestly asked for merely his signature, will
+voluntarily add a few lines of verse. But do not expect it.
+
+There are pretty little books of fine paper, handsomely bound, that are
+used for the purpose of containing signature autographs; one on each
+page. A lady owning such a book, can send it to any distinguished
+person of whose hand-writing she wishes to possess a specimen.
+
+When the name at the bottom of a letter is shown to you as an autograph,
+it is rude to take the letter into your own hand, and read the whole, or
+even to glance your eye over it. It is not intended that you shall see
+any thing but the signature.
+
+We will now address a few words to beginners in the art of writing, with
+reference to their intercourse with women of well-established literary
+reputation. If these ladies of decided standing in the republic of
+letters have sufficient leisure, they will generally be very kind in
+assisting with their counsel a young aspirant, who shows any evidence of
+talent for the profession. Unluckily, too many novices in the art,
+mistake a mere desire to get into print, for that rarest of
+gifts--genius. And without genius, there is no possibility of gaining by
+the pen, either fame, or fortune.
+
+Long manuscripts are frequently sent for the revisal "at leisure" of a
+person who has little or no leisure. Yet in the intervals of toiling for
+herself, she is expected to toil for some one else; probably for a
+stranger whom she does not know, in whom she can take no interest, and
+who has evidently "no writing in her soul." If, however, the modest
+request is kindly complied with, in all probability the corrections will
+only give offence, and may perhaps be crossed out before the manuscript
+is offered to the publisher, who very likely may reject it for want of
+these very corrections. We have known such incidents.
+
+The least talented of the numerous females pretending to authorship, are
+generally the most conceited and the most obtrusive. They are frequently
+very great annoyances to women "well-up the ladder," who are expected,
+in many instances, not only to revise the manuscript, but immediately to
+find a purchaser for it--a purchaser of high rank among publishers--one
+who will bring it out handsomely, ensure it an immense circulation, pay
+promptly, and pay as much as is given to the standard authors. And
+besides being desired to "get it published," the reviser of the
+manuscript will, perhaps, be requested to correct the proofs; that is,
+if the literary novice should chance to know what proof-sheets are.
+
+The work thus arrogantly thrust upon the time and attention of a
+deservedly-popular writer may be a book of "sweet poetry," on weak,
+worn-out, common-place subjects, done into feeble, halting, ill-rhyming
+verses, such as few read, and none remember. Or the aspirant after fame,
+may have chosen the easier path of prose, and produced a fiction without
+fancy, a novel without novelty, "a thrilling tale" that thrills nobody,
+a picture of fashionable life after no fashion that ever existed, or "a
+pathetic story of domestic life," neither pathetic nor domestic.
+
+Yet if a practised and successful author ventures to pronounce an
+_unfavourable_ verdict on such productions, because the writer desired
+her _candid_ opinion, she will probably light up a flame of resentment,
+that may never be extinguished, and make an enemy for life; the
+objections being imputed to "sheer envy," and to a malignant design of
+"extinguishing a rising star."
+
+A sufficient introduction to a publisher is to send him the manuscript,
+accompanied by a note requesting his opinion as soon as convenient. If
+he approves it, and believes it will be profitable, there is no doubt of
+his being willing to print the work. And if he thinks he shall make
+nothing by it, it is equally certain that he will decline the offer. It
+is too much to expect that he will be so regardless of his own interest
+as to publish a book, the sale of which will not remunerate him for the
+cost of paper and printing.
+
+Ladies who live in the same house with an authoress, have opportunities
+enough of seeing her in the parlour, and at table; therefore they may
+dispense with visiting her in her own room. Spare her all interruptions
+of applying for the loan of books, paper, pens, ink, &c. Do not expect
+that, because she writes, she must necessarily keep a free circulating
+library, or a gratuitous stationer's shop. Supply yourself with all such
+conveniences from the regular sources. Buy them, and pay for them,
+instead of troubling one who has not time to be troubled. Above all,
+refrain from the meanness of asking her to lend you any book written by
+herself. If she volunteers the loan, then receive it thankfully; and
+take care to return it speedily, and in good condition. It is _her_
+interest, and the interest of her publishers, that a large number of
+copies shall be _sold_; not lent, or given away. Many persons
+erroneously suppose that an author has always on hand an unlimited
+number of her own books; or that the publisher will kindly give her as
+many as she can want for herself and friends. This is by no means the
+case. It is usual, when the first edition comes out, for the publisher
+to send the author half a dozen copies of the book, or a dozen, if it is
+a small one. After that, if she wants any more, she is expected to buy
+them of the bookseller. Therefore, she has none to _give away_, except
+to members of her own family, or to friends whose circumstances will not
+permit them to expend money in books, and who have an ardent love for
+reading without the means of gratifying it. We have known ladies,
+possessing diamonds and India shawls, and living in splendid houses, ask
+the author for the loan of a cookery-book, with the avowed purpose of
+"copying out the best receipts."
+
+Apropos to cookery-books:--If you have faithfully followed a receipt,
+and the result is not quite satisfactory, there is nothing amiss in your
+acquainting the writer with that fact, provided it _is_ a fact. On the
+contrary, you may do her a kindness, by enabling her to detect an error
+in the directions, and to rectify that error in a future edition.
+
+Women often assert that the receipt was not a good one, and that upon
+trial it proved a failure, when, on investigation, you will find that,
+from false economy, some of the ingredients were left out; or the
+relative proportions diminished in quantity--too much of the cheapest
+articles being put in, and not enough of the more costly. Or else, that
+sufficient time and pains were not bestowed on the mixing and preparing;
+or that the thing was not sufficiently cooked.
+
+By-the-bye, remember that a receipt for cookery, is not to be called a
+_recipe_. The word _recipe_ belongs to pharmacy, and is only used with
+reference to medical prescriptions. The cook uses _receipts_, the
+apothecary _recipes_.
+
+Whatever article you may wish to borrow from an inmate of the same
+house, apply first to persons whose time is of comparatively small
+importance to them, before you disturb and interrupt a literary lady. Do
+not trouble her for the loan of umbrellas, over-shoes, hoods, calashes,
+&c., or send to her for small change.
+
+We once lived in a house where coal-fires were scarce, and wood-fires
+plenty. Our own fire-arrangement was wood in a Franklin stove, and no
+other person in the house was the fortunate owner of a pair of bellows.
+Liking always to be comfortable, we had bought a pair for ourselves.
+
+Ten times a day we were disturbed by a knock at the door, from a
+coloured girl who came "a-borrowing" this implement to revive the fire
+of some other room. She called it by a pleasing variety of
+names--running through all the vowels. Sometimes she wanted the
+bellow_sas_; sometimes the bellow_ses_; or the bellow_sis_, the
+bellow_sos_, or the bellow_sus_. These frequent interruptions, with
+others that were similar, became a real grievance. We thought it would
+cost us less to present the bellows to the house, and buy another pair
+for ourselves. We did so--but very soon the first pair was somehow
+missing, and our own was again in requisition.
+
+Since that winter we have burnt anthracite, and therefore have no
+bellow_sas_ to lend.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+SUGGESTIONS TO INEXPERIENCED AUTHORS.
+
+
+There is some economy and much convenience in buying your paper by the
+ream, (twenty quires,) having first tried a sample. The surface of the
+paper should be smooth, and somewhat glossy; particularly if you write
+with metallic pens. That which is soft and spongy, though a little lower
+in price, wears out the pen so fast that what is saved in paper is lost
+in pens; also, there is no possibility of writing on it with ease and
+expedition. You will find it best to use paper ruled in lines. If you
+write a large hand, take foolscap; if a small hand, use letter-paper
+size. But note-paper is too small, when you are writing for the press.
+
+Before you commence your manuscript, take a quire, and prepare each
+sheet by splitting it all down the folded side, with a sharp
+paper-cutter, thus dividing it into half-sheets. You can do this better
+on a flat table than on the slope of a desk. Keep your left hand
+pressing down hard on the quire, while you are cutting it with your
+right.
+
+The best paper-cutters are those of real ivory. A handle is of no
+advantage to them, but rather the contrary. They should be thin, plain,
+and perfectly straight, except being rounded off at the two ends. Ivory
+paper-knives of this form are generally used by the book-binders, an
+evidence that they are convenient and expeditious. Those of bone or horn
+are scarcely worth buying, though but half the price; the edges soon
+becoming blunt, and therefore useless. Wooden paper-knives are good for
+nothing. Paper-knives of mother of pearl, and other ornamental
+substances, are of little utility, being rarely sharp enough, (even when
+new,) and in a short time becoming quite dull. Also, they break very
+easily. Avoid cutting a sheet of paper, or the leaves of a book, with
+scissors; it is comparatively a slow and awkward process; and cannot,
+even with great care, be effected as smoothly and evenly as with a
+cutter of ivory.
+
+Before you split or divide the sheet, press the paper-knife all along
+the fold, so as to flatten the crease, and make it cut evenly and
+easily. Having split your whole sheets into leaves or half-sheets, take
+each half-sheet separately, and fold over an inch or more all along the
+left-hand edge; so as to leave a margin or space for sewing the
+manuscript when finished. Do this with the paper-knife. Lay a pile of
+these half-sheets beside you when you sit down to write, and take them
+as you want them.
+
+Write only on one side of the paper. If written on both sides, it will
+cause trouble and inconvenience to the printers, by obliging them to
+turn over at the end of every page. This rule, however, may be dispensed
+with, when a manuscript is so short that it may be comprised in one
+sheet, and is to be transmitted by mail. This may be the more easily
+managed, by drawing with a pencil or pen a straight perpendicular line
+down the middle of each page, so as to divide it into columns. When it
+is finished, enclose it in an envelope, direct, and seal it, and put on
+a post-office stamp. If the manuscript occupies two or three sheets, put
+two or three stamps side by side. There are large envelopes that will
+hold foolscap paper, properly folded.
+
+Do not use _blue_ ink; for if any part of your manuscript should chance
+to get wet, there is a risk of the blue ink being effaced or obliterated
+by the damp, so as to render the writing illegible; and this has
+frequently happened.
+
+Let your writing be large enough, and plain enough to be read with ease,
+and the compositor will be less likely to make mistakes. Printers,
+though accustomed to read all sorts of writing, are sometimes completely
+at a loss in deciphering a very bad hand. There is no excuse for a
+person in respectable life persisting in writing illegibly, as it is
+never too late to improve. You have only to take lessons of a good
+instructor, and apply yourself sedulously to acquiring a new hand, and
+you will succeed in doing so.
+
+Do not, in writing for the press, affect the crow-quill calligraphy that
+is fashionable for album verses and complimentary billets. When your
+manuscript is finished, sew the leaves _evenly_ together, with nothing
+more than a strong thread; or, if it is very thick, it may be sewed with
+a fine twine put into a large needle. A handsome cover, daintily
+fastened with a pretty ribbon, is of no account in a printing-office,
+where the first thing that is done with a manuscript is to remove the
+cover, and cut the leaves loose from the fastening. The printers will
+gladly dispense with covers, ribbons, and fairy-like penmanship, in
+favour of a plain legible hand, pages regularly numbered, and leaves
+written on one side only.
+
+In commencing a manuscript, write the title or caption in large letters,
+at some distance from the top of the first page; and if you are not
+anonymous, put your name a little below the title. Then begin the
+_first_ line of the first paragraph, several inches distant from the
+left-hand side, or margin. In this manner commence every paragraph. The
+length of the paragraphs may be regulated by the time when you think a
+pause longer than that of a period or full stop may be effective; or to
+give the reader an opportunity of resting for a minute; or to denote the
+commencement of another subject.
+
+In writing a dialogue, begin every separate speech with a capital, and
+commence each speech on a new line, and at some distance from the
+left-hand margin. Also mark the beginning and end of every speech with
+double commas. If the names of the speakers are given at the
+_commencement_ of every speech, write those names in _large_ letters,
+putting a dot and a dash after them. All these arrangements are the same
+in writing as in printing.
+
+If you are, unfortunately, not familiar with the rules of punctuation,
+refresh your memory by referring to them in a grammar-book. They must
+be strictly observed; otherwise your meaning will be unintelligible.
+Always remember that every period or full stop, and every note of
+interrogation, or of admiration, must be followed by a capital letter,
+beginning the next word. Dashes, particularly in a dialogue, add much to
+the effect, if not used too lavishly.
+
+Errors of orthography are rarely committed by any one who presumes to
+write for the press. It is scarcely possible for a person who reads much
+to spell incorrectly, as the appearance of the printed words becomes
+insensibly and indelibly fixed in the mind. Still it may be well to
+write with a dictionary on your table, in case you should have any doubt
+as to the proper spelling and meaning of a word with which you may not
+be very familiar.
+
+Keep also a grammar on your table. Grammatical errors are annoying to
+the reader, and disgraceful to the writer, unless it is well known that
+she has not had the advantage of an education, even at a common school.
+Then she is to be pitied. But it is never too late to study grammar, and
+she had best do so before she ventures to write for the public. If she
+writes ungrammatically, how must she talk! In a work of fiction it is
+shocking to have lords and ladies, or the noble and dignified hero, and
+the elegant and refined heroine, conversing in "bad grammar," because
+the author knew no better. Yet such books we have seen. There are,
+luckily, not many of them. But there should be none.
+
+Every morning, previous to commencing your task, revise carefully all
+that you have written on the preceeding day, and correct and alter
+whatever you may deem susceptible of improvement. Some authors revise
+every page as soon as they have written it. But, unless you are much
+pressed for time, it is best to do this next morning, when your
+perceptions are fresh and clear. In crossing or blotting out, do it
+effectually, so that the original words may not appear through, and
+remain still legible. If you find that you have omitted a word, or if
+you wish to change one word for another, interline it; inserting the new
+word just above the line to which it belongs, and placing this mark /\
+below. Lay aside each page as you finish it. Be particular in numbering
+every page; and it is best to do this before you begin, placing the
+number near the top of the right-hand corner. Let not your lines be too
+close, or there will not be space enough for legible interlining.
+
+If the publisher lives in your own town, it will be sufficient to roll
+up the manuscript in clean white paper, twisted at each end, and wafered
+in the middle. But however short the distance, write on the outside of
+the paper the full direction of the publishing office; that, in case of
+its being dropped in the street, any person finding it may know exactly
+where to take it.
+
+In putting up a large manuscript, in a packet for transmission to a
+distant place, use strong nankeen paper for the cover, and secure it
+with wafers, or paste, if it is to go a voyage in a steamer, as a wax
+seal may be melted by the heat of the fire. If it will reach its
+destination in a few hours, you may seal it with wax, having tied red
+tape about. Do not use twine, as that may cut the paper. Newspapers are
+generally put up in a brownish paper cover, pasted at the side and
+bottom, with one end left open.
+
+Postage is now so cheap, that manuscripts had best always be transmitted
+by mail; putting a sufficient number of stamps on the outside, all close
+to each other.
+
+Few women can write well enough for publication, without going twice
+over the subject; first in what is called the rough copy, and then
+making a fair copy with all the original errors corrected, and all
+proper alterations inserted. If you have time, make _two_ fair copies;
+one for the printer, and one to keep for yourself, in case the other
+should be accidentally destroyed or lost--retaining it till after the
+work is actually in print. Much postage is wasted, and much annoyance is
+given to the editors of periodicals, by applications for the restoration
+of unpublished verses, and other "Rejected Addresses," consisting,
+perhaps, of a sheet of poetry, or a few pages of prose, of which it
+would have been very easy to have made another copy for the author's
+keeping.
+
+In writing articles for Annuals, let it be remembered that the printing
+of these books is always completed some months before they are published
+or announced for sale. Therefore, all contributions should be sent to
+the publisher before February, or March at farthest. For a magazine,
+they should be transmitted at least two months in advance. For a weekly
+paper, two weeks ahead.
+
+Those who write for periodicals should remember that it is the custom
+to address all letters on compensations, copies of work, &c. to the
+publisher; and not to the editor, who seldom has any concern in the
+pecuniary affairs, his business being solely to receive, and read the
+manuscripts, to accept or reject them, and to arrange them for the
+press. It is not usual for the compensation to be paid till after the
+book is published. Some publishers send to every contributor one copy of
+the work. Others do not present a copy when the article is very
+short--for instance, a few stanzas of verse. Prose obtains a higher
+price than poetry, of which there is always a superabundance in the
+market. Much poetry is published without any pay at all; the writers
+being contented with seeing their effusions in print. No _good_ author
+has any occasion to write gratuitously. A "merely passable" or "just
+tolerable" writer of poetry or fiction, should give up the inventive
+line, and try something else--something for which genius is not
+indispensable; and from which, by patience and industry, a sort of
+living may be wrought out.
+
+In composing poetry, a common, but unpardonable fault is that of
+introducing a lame or halting line--a line with one syllable too many,
+or too few. And if the author does not understand that it is an
+intolerable blemish, and sends it uncorrected to the press, she is
+unworthy of being called a poetess. We are inclined to believe that no
+person devoid of an ear for music, can write poetry deserving of the
+name. The ideas may be good, but the lines will have no melody, and will
+move harshly and ruggedly, very much like rough prose.
+
+Some writers seem to think that blank verse is nothing but prose with a
+capital at the beginning of each line; never having learnt or remembered
+that though the lines do not rhyme, they must all comprise ten
+syllables, (syllables, not words,) otherwise the effect when read, will,
+to even a tolerable ear, be absolutely painful. We saw a play, (the
+first attempt of a since distinguished dramatist,) the dialogue of which
+was unintelligible to the audience, and nearly impracticable to the
+actors, who found it absolutely beyond their skill to enunciate; or
+rather beneath it. We afterward heard the manager of the Chestnut-street
+Theatre explain, that the difficulty, both with the speakers and the
+hearers, was the execrable blank verse in which the play was written;
+some of the lines containing but seven or eight syllables, (instead of
+ten,) and some twelve or fourteen. A very few English authors write
+irregular blank verse; but we are sorry to say that a great many
+Americans do not seem to understand the process, simple as it is, of
+confining themselves to ten syllables only,--neither more nor less. Can
+they have read Shakspeare?
+
+There is no blank verse in French poetry. That language seems incapable
+of it.
+
+If you are writing for a periodical, and are desirous of ascertaining
+before-hand how many pages your manuscript will make when printed, take,
+at random, any printed page of the work, and copy it in your usual hand,
+and on a sheet of the same paper you intend using throughout. You will
+thus, by comparison, be able to judge with tolerable accuracy, how much
+of your writing will make a page when printed.
+
+Keep a memorandum-book for the express purpose of setting down whatever
+relates to your literary affairs. Insert the day when you commenced a
+manuscript, the day when you finished it, and the day on which it went
+to the publisher. Also, the whole number of its pages. When you see it
+in print, put down the number of its printed pages. In this book, set
+down, _immediately on receiving them_, whatever sums are paid to you for
+your writings.
+
+If you are a writer of fiction, have a large book for memorandums, of
+any amusing or remarkable things you may chance to hear, and which you
+may turn to account afterward. If you write truth only, keep a book for
+the reception of useful or interesting facts. A written book of names,
+alphabetically arranged, (surnames and Christian names,) will be of
+great advantage in selecting appellations for your characters. Do not
+give elegant names to your common people; or to your patrician
+characters names that are coarse and vulgar. A fault in Dickens is that
+nearly all his names are rugged, uncouth, and ill-sounding, and seldom
+characteristic. Why should a very excellent and generous brother and
+sister be called Tom Pinch and Ruth Pinch. What did they pinch?
+
+There is a proof-reader in every printing-office, but after he has done,
+the proofs are generally sent to the author for farther revisal.
+
+In correcting proof-sheets, first see that they are quite dry. Draw your
+pen through any word you desire to change, and then write the new word
+on the margin, placing it even with the line of the rejected word. When
+you alter the punctuation, converting a comma into a semicolon, or a
+period into a note of admiration, make a slight mark on the margin of
+that line, that the printer may not overlook it. If you have occasion to
+change a whole sentence, cross it out, and put the new sentence on the
+margin at the bottom of the page.
+
+If the printer's boy can wait, you had best correct the proofs while he
+stays.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+CHILDREN.
+
+
+Miss Edgworth says that the education of a child begins at three months
+old. It is true that both bad and good habits may seem to commence at
+this early age; but we do not believe that in so slight a soil they take
+a very deep root, or that what is called a cross baby is sure to grow up
+an ill-tempered adult. Infants, when they are not really sick,
+frequently cry from some incidental annoyance, and not from a fretful
+disposition. If they feel comfortably they will usually be good-humoured
+and pleasant. Much of their comfort is sacrificed to the vanity of the
+mother in dressing them fashionably and expensively. We knew a baby that
+was very good in the morning, but very cross in the afternoon, or when
+dressed for show. And no wonder, for in her show-costume she was
+tortured with necklace, sleeve-loops, and bracelets of fine branchy, or
+rather briary coral, scratching and irritating her delicate skin, and
+leaving the print in red marks. On our representing this to the mother
+as the probable cause of the baby's fretfulness, the thorny ornaments
+were left off, and the child became amiable. Gold chains are also very
+irritating to the neck and arms of an infant. Coral beads of a smooth
+round form, strung evenly on a simple thread of silk, without any
+intermingling of gold chain, are, perhaps, the most comfortable
+necklaces for children, and are also very becoming; but as they are not
+expensive, they are of course not fashionable.
+
+Fortunately, the days of worked caps are over. Young ladies are no
+longer expected to cover pieces of cambric with elaborate cotton
+embroidery for the babies of their married friends, and the tender heads
+of the babies are no longer chafed with rough needle-work rubbing
+incessantly upon them, or heated with a silk lining to the cambric
+already thickened all over with close, heavy patterns. We wish also that
+mothers, generally, were less proud of seeing their babies with
+"luxuriant heads of hair," which if it has no natural tendency to curl,
+disfigures the child and gives it a wild, ungenteel look. If it does
+curl, it still heats the head and neck, and is said to draw away much
+strength from the system. The most healthy infants we have seen, had
+very little hair, or it was judiciously kept closely cut. To curl
+children's hair in papers is barbarous. They pay dearly for the glory of
+appearing in ringlets during the day, if they are made to pass their
+nights lying upon a mass of hard, rough bobs, about as pleasant as if
+they had their heads in a bag of hickory-nuts. But then the mother has
+the gratification of hearing their curls admired!
+
+Among other sufferings inflicted on babies is that of sending them out
+in bleak winter days with brimless hats, that, so far from screening
+their faces from the cold wind, do not even afford the slightest shade
+to their eyes, which are winking and watering all the time from the
+glare of the sun and snow. We have seen false curls pinned to these
+babies' hats, and dangling in their eyes.
+
+Another detestable practice is that of making the waists of children's
+frocks ridiculously long and painfully tight; particularly over the
+chest and body, which are thus pressed flat, to the utter ruin of the
+figure, and the risk of producing incurable diseases--such as
+consumption of the lungs, and projection of the spine; to say nothing of
+the various complaints connected with the stomach, which is thus
+squeezed into half its natural compass. Also, the sleeve-holes are so
+small and tight as to push up the shoulders. Then the hips are pressed
+downward far below their proper place, and the legs are consequently in
+danger of becoming short and bandy. Is it possible this vile fashion can
+continue much longer?--and are "the rising generation" really to grow up
+with high shoulders, round backs, flat chests, bodies that seem longer
+than their legs, and hips almost where their knees ought to be?
+
+Also, these limbs must suffer from cold in winter with no other covering
+than cotton stockings, the skirts of the dress scarcely reaching to the
+knees--the little boys disfigured with the ugliest of all garments,
+short knee-breeches.
+
+Add to all the rest of these abominations, tight boots with peaked toes,
+and can we wonder that children, even beyond the period of infancy,
+should, at times, be cross, irritable, and unamiable. How can they be
+otherwise, when they seldom feel comfortably? Then, if the parents can
+afford it, (or whether or not,) the unhappy children are bedizened with
+all manner of expensive finery, and interdicted from romping, lest they
+should injure it. But, what matter if the children suffer--the mother's
+vanity _must_ be gratified, and she _must_ have the delight of seeing
+that her boys and girls are as fashionably dressed as the little
+Thomsons and Wilsons and Jacksons.
+
+We look back with regret to the days when little girls, as well as boys,
+wore their hair closely cropped; convenient and cool, and showing to
+advantage the form of the head, till they were twelve or thirteen--and
+they wore only washable dresses, descending far below the knees, and
+with pantalets down to their ankles. In summer their frocks had short
+wide sleeves, and were _not_ close up to the throat. The bodies were of
+a natural length, the outside gathered full upon a moderately tight
+lining. If there is no lining to a full frock-body it will puff out at
+the back and front, and give the waist a look of deformity before and
+behind. Then the little girls went out in close cottage-bonnets of straw
+in summer, and beaver in winter--shading and screening their faces--and
+were kept warm when out of doors with long wide cloaks or coats of cloth
+or merino, instead of the fantastic short things now worn, with open
+sleeves and open fronts. Then, when at home, how innocent and childlike
+they looked in their long-sleeved convenient bib-aprons!--so much better
+than the short silk ones now worn, trimmed and bordered and ribboned,
+and rendered so fine that the children are expected to be as careful of
+injuring their showy aprons as of soiling their showy frocks.
+
+Formerly, children learned to play various amusing games, such as "Hot
+buttered beans," "Blind-man's bluff," &c. Now their play is chiefly
+running and squealing, and chasing each other about, without any
+definite object, except that of making a noise. Then, at a juvenile
+party, the amusement was chiefly in the varieties of these entertaining
+games. Now it is dancing--for as many as can find places to dance--and
+nothing at all for those who cannot, but to grow tired and sleepy. In
+former times, children's parties commenced at two o'clock in the
+afternoon in winter, and at four in summer. They played till they were
+summoned to a large and well-supplied tea-table, and were sent for to
+come home by eight o'clock, being then quite tired enough to go to bed
+and sleep soundly, and waken with pleasant recollections of yesterday.
+If the party was very large, the elder children sat round the room, and
+tea, &c. was handed to them, while the little ones were accommodated at
+a table where the hostess presided. The children of that time really
+enjoyed these parties, and so would those of the present time, if they
+could have such. The juvenile-party dress was then but a simple white
+muslin frock with a ribbon sash. We have since seen little girls at a
+summer party steadfastly refuse strawberries and cream, in obedience to
+the interdiction of their mothers; who had enjoined them to do so, lest
+they should stain or otherwise injure their elegant silk dresses.
+
+Fortunately, it is no longer fashionable for mothers to take their
+children with them on morning visits. On these occasions small children
+rarely behave well. They soon grow tired, and restless, and begin
+teazing to go somewhere else. Their presence is (or ought to be) a
+restraint on conversation, as much may be said during a visit that is
+not well for them to hear. They comprehend certain things far more
+easily than is supposed. Great mischief has ensued from allowing
+children to sit and listen; and there is no dependence on their
+discretion or secrecy.
+
+It is not well to put a small child "through its facings," by trying to
+make it exhibit any of its little feats before strangers. They are
+generally very reluctant to make this exhibition. Sometimes they are
+bashful, sometimes perverse; but if the mother persists in her attempt
+to show them off, it will probably prove a complete failure, and end in
+a cry, or that outbreak usually called a tantrum. By-the-bye, there is
+no better way of stopping a tantrum than quietly to divert the child's
+attention to something else.
+
+Beware of trusting an infant, too confidingly, to an European nurse; and
+when she carries out the baby, it would be well if an older sister or
+the mother herself could go along. Instead of carrying it to one of the
+public squares, or to some other place where there is air and shade, she
+may take it into dirty alleys, on a visit to some of her own relations,
+perhaps newly arrived in an emigrant ship, with the filth and diseases
+of a steerage passage still about them. This we know to have been done,
+and the child has in consequence taken a disgusting disease. Or,
+believing it a meritorious act, an Irish nurse may secretly carry the
+infant to a priest, and have it baptized in the Catholic church, herself
+standing godmother. Of this there have been numerous instances. Young
+children frequently acquire, from being too much with ignorant and
+vulgar nurses, bad habits of talking that are exceedingly difficult to
+eradicate--so lasting are early impressions. We have heard an Irish
+brogue from infantine lips; and the letter H sadly misused by the
+American nursling of a low Englishwoman. Above all, do not permit your
+own children to play with the children of their nurse. No good ever
+accrues from it.
+
+Children should not be brought to table till they are able to feed
+themselves, first with a spoon, and next with a fork. And not then,
+unless they can be depended on to keep quiet, and not talk. The
+chattering of children all dinner-time is a great annoyance to grown
+people. The shrill voice of a child can be distinguished annoyingly amid
+those of a whole company. They should be made to understand that if they
+talk at table, they are to be immediately taken away to finish their
+dinner in the nursery. On no consideration should they be admitted to
+table when there is a dinner-party. The foolish custom of having all the
+children dressed for the purpose, and brought in with the dessert, is
+now obsolete. It never was very prevalent, except in England.
+
+We have seen children so well and so early trained that they could be
+trusted to come to table every day without the least fear of their
+misbehaving by talking or otherwise. They sat quietly, asked for
+nothing, took contentedly whatever was put on their plates, made no
+attempt at helping themselves, and neither greased nor slopped the
+table-cloth; and when done, wiped their mouths and hands on their
+napkins, before they quitted their chairs, which they did at a sign from
+their mother; going out without noise, and neither leaving the door open
+nor slamming it hard. It is very easy to accustom children to these
+observances. Also, they may be taught very early, how to behave to
+visiters. For instance, not to pass between them and the fire, not to
+hang on the back of a lady's chair; or to squeeze close to her; or to
+get on her lap; or to finger her dress; or to search her reticule, or
+her pocket; or to ask a stranger for pennies or sixpences; or to tell
+her that she is not pretty; or to enquire "why she wears such an ugly
+bonnet?"
+
+We have known a fine little boy, not three years old, who, on the
+entrance of a friend of his mother's, would haul up a chair for her, and
+invite her to a seat near the fire, place a footstool at her feet, ask
+her to let him take her bonnet, and invite her to stay to dinner, to
+stay all day, and to "stay for ever," adding, "I try to be polite."
+
+There are very little girls who, if their mother is from home, can do
+the honours in her place; seat the visiter on the sofa, and press her to
+stay till their mother comes in; and if the lady declines doing so,
+they will ask her at least to stay awhile, and rest herself, and have a
+glass of cool water; and while she stays, they will do their best to
+entertain her. Such children always grow up with polished manners, if
+not removed from the influence that made them so in early life.
+
+Children should be early taught not to repeat the conversation of grown
+persons, and never to tell the servants any thing they have heard in the
+parlour. When they come home from school, they ought not to be
+encouraged in telling school-tales. If they dine out, never question
+them concerning what they had for dinner. Forbid their relating any
+circumstances concerning the domestic economy of the house at which they
+have been entertained.
+
+If a child purloins cakes or sweetmeats, punish him by giving him none
+the next time they are on table.
+
+At four years of age, a beginning should be made in teaching them to
+read, by hearing them the alphabet every day till they have learned it
+perfectly; and afterwards the first spelling-tables. With a quarter of
+an hour's daily instruction, a child of common capacity will, in six
+months, be able to spell in two or three syllables, and to read short
+easy stories with the syllables divided. At the end of the year, if her
+lessons are regular, and not so long as to tire her, she will, in all
+probability, take pleasure in reading to herself, when her lessons are
+over. Were they taught _out of story-books only_, there are few children
+that at the age of six years would find any difficulty in reading
+fluently. If _very_ intelligent, they often can read well at five. When
+they can once read, encourage them in the love of books; but do not set
+them at any other branch of education till they are eight. Then, their
+hands being strong enough to guide the pen firmly, they may commence
+writing copies. They should be supplied with slates and pencils at three
+years old. If they have any dormant talent for drawing, this will call
+it out. Little girls may begin to sew at four or five, but only as an
+amusement, not as a task. The best and most satisfactory dolls for young
+children are those of linen or rag, made very substantially. Much money
+is wasted in toys that afford them no amusement whatever; and toys that,
+being merely to look at, they grow tired of immediately, and delight in
+breaking to pieces.
+
+Never give an infant a book to play with. He will most assuredly tear
+it; that being the only amusement it can afford him. It is possible at a
+very early age to teach a tractable female child such a respect for
+books that she will never attempt to injure them. When they are old
+enough to take pleasure in looking at the pictures, it is easy to
+accustom them to be always satisfied with the books being shown to them
+in the hands of grown persons. Do not buy those books that have absurd
+and revolting prints of people with gigantic heads and diminutive
+bodies. Children always dislike them, and so they ought.
+
+Rejoice when a little girl shows a fondness for reading, and by all
+means encourage it. Keep her well supplied with good and entertaining
+books, and you will have little trouble with her. Do not needlessly
+interrupt, and call her off--but let her read in peace. It will do her
+more good than any thing else, and lay the foundation of an intelligent
+mind. A taste for reading, if not formed in early childhood, may perhaps
+never come at all. And then what a solace it is in bodily illness! How
+patiently a reading child, whose mind is stored with "pleasant
+memories," can bear pain, and submit to the confinement of a sick-bed.
+We have known more than one instance of the illness of a reading child
+taking a turn for the better, from the time she was indulged with an
+amusing and interesting book.
+
+There is no place in which children appear to greater disadvantage or
+are less ungovernable than at hotels or boarding-houses. We are always
+sorry when the circumstances of parents oblige them permanently to live
+thus in public, with their young families, who are consequently brought
+up in a manner which cannot but have an unfavourable effect in forming
+the characters of the future men and women. By way of variety, and that
+they may not always be confined up-stairs, the children are encouraged,
+or at least permitted by their mothers, to spend much of their time in
+the drawing-room, regardless of the annoyance which their noise and
+romping never fails to inflict upon the legitimate occupants of that
+apartment. The parents, loving their children too much to be incommoded
+themselves by any thing that their offspring can say or do, seem not
+aware that they can possibly interrupt or trouble the rest of the
+company. Or else, conscious of their own inability to control them,
+they are afraid to check the children lest they should turn restive,
+rebel, or break out into a tantrum. "Any thing for the sake of peace,"
+is a very foolish maxim where juveniles are concerned. By being firm
+once or twice, and dismissing them from the room when they deserve it,
+you may have peace ever after. The noisiest and most inconvenient time
+to have children in a public parlour is in the interval between their
+tea and their bed-time. Some children have no bed-time. And when they
+are tired of scampering and shouting, they lie about sleeping on the
+sofas, and cry if they are finally wakened, to go up with their mother
+when she retires for the night.
+
+Still worse is the practice that prevails in some hotels and
+boarding-houses, of the mothers sending the nurse-maids with the babies,
+to sit in the drawing-room among the ladies; who are thus liable to have
+a vulgar and obtrusive servant-girl, most probably "from the old
+country," boldly taking her seat in the midst of them, or conspicuously
+occupying one of the front-windows; either keeping up a perpetual
+undercurrent of fulsome, foolish talk to the baby, or listening eagerly
+to the conversation around her, and, perhaps, repeating it invidiously
+as soon as she gets an opportunity. If one lady sends her nurse-maid to
+sit in the drawing-room with the child, all the other mothers of babies
+immediately follow suit, and the drawing-room becomes a mere nursery.
+
+Every hotel should have a commodious and airy parlour set apart entirely
+for the children and nurses. The proprietors could easily afford to
+keep one good room for that purpose, if they would expend a little less
+on the finery of the parlours, &c. We have heard of an embroidered
+piano-cover, in a great hotel, costing fourteen hundred dollars, and the
+children pulling it down and dragging it about the floor. With a
+piano-cover of the usual cost, and other things less ostentatious, a
+children's parlour might well have been afforded in this very
+establishment.
+
+At a hotel, if the children come to the ladies' table, they are always
+in danger of eating food that is highly improper for them, and they very
+soon learn to help themselves to much more than they want, and to eat
+voraciously, in their desire to "have something of every thing." There
+is always a table purposely for those children whose parents pay
+half-price for them; and at which the housekeeper presides. However good
+this table may be, and though the pies and puddings may be excellent,
+the mothers are frequently dissatisfied with the absence of ice-cream,
+blanc-mange, charlotte-russe, &c., though certainly, were they in houses
+of their own, they would not have such things every day. Therefore,
+though it is "not in the bond," the mothers carry away from the table
+saucers of these delicacies, and the children learn to expect a daily
+supply of them from the ladies' dining-room. This, we must say, is a
+mean practice. We have, however, known some mothers, who, really being
+"honourable women," sent every day to a confectioner's to _buy_
+ice-cream for their children.
+
+There is danger at a hotel of little boys loitering about the bar or
+office, encouraged by unthinking young men, who give them "tastes of
+drink," and even amuse themselves by teaching them to smoke segars.
+
+And no children, either boys or girls, can live at a public house
+without hearing and seeing much that it is best they should not know.
+The English travellers deprecate the American practice of bringing up
+young people in hotels or boarding-houses. And they are right.
+
+When a lady, having with her a young child, and no nurse-maid, stops for
+a day at a hotel, she can avoid the inconvenience of taking the child
+with her to table, and incommoding herself and all who sit near her. She
+has only to entrust the little traveller to a chambermaid up-stairs;
+directing the girl how to take care of it, and promising her a gratuity
+for her trouble. She will rarely have cause to regret such an
+arrangement. It will spare the annoyance and mortification of having the
+child make a noise at table, and perhaps compelling the mother to go
+away with it.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+DECORUM IN CHURCH.
+
+
+We wish it were less customary to go to church in gay and costly
+habiliments, converting its sacred precincts into a place for the
+display of finery, and of rivalry to your equally bedizened neighbours.
+In many Catholic countries,[17] a peculiar costume is universally
+adopted for visiting a place of worship--a very plain gown of entire
+black, with a long, black cloak, and a black hood finished with a veil
+that shades the face. This dress is kept for the purpose of wearing at
+church. We highly approve the custom, and wish that something similar
+could be introduced into the United States--particularly on the solemn
+occasions of taking the communion, or being confirmed as a Christian
+member. We have known young ladies to have elegant dresses made on
+purpose, and to get their hair dressed by a barber when preparing for
+confirmation.
+
+In a Sacred Melody of Moore's, St. Jerome tells us--
+
+    "Yet worldly is that heart at best,
+      Which beats beneath a broider'd veil;
+    And she who comes in glittering vest
+      To mourn her frailty--still is frail."
+
+Endeavour always to be in your pew before the service commences, and do
+not hurry out of it, hastily, the moment the benediction is finished; or
+begin visibly to prepare for departure as soon as it commences. Stay
+quietly till the mass of the crowd has gone.
+
+If you go into a strange church, or rather into a church where you are a
+stranger, wait in the vestibule till you see the sexton; and then
+request him to show you to a vacant seat, or rather to one which he
+believes will be that day unoccupied--for instance, if the family owning
+it is out of town. This is far better than to wander about the aisles
+alone, or to intrude yourself into a pew where you may cause
+inconvenience to its owners. If you see that a pew is full, you know, of
+course, that you cannot obtain a seat in it without dislodging somebody.
+
+Yet we have seen many a lady, on entering a church in which she was a
+stranger, walk boldly up the middle aisle to one of the best pews near
+the pulpit, and pertinaciously stand there, looking steadfastly at its
+rightful occupants, till one of them quitted his own seat, and gave it
+up to her, seeking for himself another place wherever he could find one.
+Those who go to strange churches should be contented with seats near the
+door; or at the lower end of the side-aisles; or up in the gallery.
+
+If a family invites you to go to church with them, or to come thither,
+and have a seat in their pew, do not take the liberty of asking a friend
+of your own to accompany you; and above all, do not bring a child with
+you.
+
+Should you (having a pew of your own) ask another lady to go with you,
+call for her in due time; and she ought to be quite ready. Place her in
+a corner-seat, (it being the most comfortable,) and see that she is
+accommodated with a foot-stool; and be assiduous in finding the places
+for her in the prayer-book, or hymn-book.
+
+In American churches there is much civility to strangers. We have often
+seen, when a person of respectable appearance was in quest of a seat,
+the doors of half a dozen pews kindly opened to admit him, and, as soon
+as he entered, a prayer-book offered to him open at the proper place.
+
+No good can result from taking children to church when they are too
+young to read, or to understand. They are always eager to go, because
+they like to go everywhere; but when once seated in the pew, they soon
+become tired and restless; and frequently there is no way to keep them
+quiet, but to let them go to sleep in the lap of the mother or elder
+sister. And then they are apt to cry whenever they waken. If there are
+two little boys, they are prone to get to playing, or what is far worse,
+quarrelling. And then if they make a noise, some elder member of the
+family is subjected to the mortification of conveying them out of
+church--perhaps by desire of the minister audibly expressed from the
+pulpit. We know clergymen who do not permit their children to be taken
+to church till they can read--convinced that if their first
+recollections of a place of worship are rather painful than pleasant,
+they are the less likely to grow up with a due regard for
+religion--that is, for religion of the heart--the spirit, and not merely
+the letter.
+
+We are sorry to see young ladies, on their way to church, laughing and
+talking loudly, and flirting with the beaux that are gallanting them
+thither. It is too probable that these beaux will occupy a large share
+of their thoughts during the hours of worship. Nay, there are some so
+irreverent, and so regardless of the sanctity of the place, as to
+indulge in frequent whispers to those near them, or to their friends in
+the adjoining pews.
+
+A lady of high fashion and fortune, formerly a resident of Philadelphia,
+was noted for the scandalous lightness and levity of her behaviour in
+church--laughing and talking, in more than whispers, nearly all the
+time, to the idle young men whom she always brought with her, and who,
+to do them justice, sometimes seemed rather ashamed of her conduct. Her
+pew was directly in front of the pulpit. One Sunday morning, Bishop
+White gave her a severe and merited rebuke, by stopping in his sermon,
+fixing his eyes sadly upon her, and bowing to her, as an intimation that
+till she had ceased he could not go on. We are sorry to add that the
+reproof had no other effect than to excite her anger, and caused her
+immediately to go out of church, highly exasperated. That lady went to
+live in Europe, and has not yet become a good woman, but greatly the
+contrary.
+
+"The Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth keep silence before
+him," was the solemn and impressive inscription over the altar of St.
+Augustine's church in Philadelphia.
+
+In visiting a church of a different denomination from your own, comply,
+as far as you can, with all the ceremonies observed by the congregation,
+particularly if you are in a foreign country. Even if some of these
+observances are not the least in conformity with your own opinions and
+feelings, remember that you are there as a guest, and have no right to
+offend or give displeasure to your hosts by evincing a marked
+disapprobation of their mode of worship. If you find it very irksome to
+refrain, (which it should not be,) you need not go a second time. Every
+religious sect believes its own faith to be the best; but God only knows
+which really is. Christ has said, "By their fruits ye shall know them."
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[17] The author is a Protestant.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV.
+
+EVENING PARTIES.
+
+
+Having made out a list of the persons you intend to invite, proceed to
+write the notes; or have them written in a neat, handsome hand, by an
+experienced calligrapher. Fashion, in its various changes, sometimes
+decrees that these notes, and their envelopes, shall be perfectly plain,
+(though always of the finest paper,) and that the wax seals shall of
+course be very small. At other times, the mode is to write on embossed
+note paper, with bordered envelopes, secured by fancy wafers,
+transparent, medallion, gold or silver. If the seals are gold or silver,
+the edges or borders of the paper should be also gilt or silvered.
+Sometimes, for a very large or splendid party, the notes are engraved
+and printed on cards. Consult the Directory, to obtain the _exact_
+address of those to whom you send them.
+
+These invitations may be transmitted by one of the City post offices;
+first putting a stamp on each. Let the stamps be such as will leave
+nothing additional to be paid by the receiver. If they go through the
+United States Post-Office, the carrier will require another cent for
+each, beside the stamp. In Philadelphia, Blood's Dispatch Post may be
+trusted, as to punctuality, (if faithfully put into the letter-box at
+the proper time;) and there is no cost but that of the penny stamp which
+you put on yourself.
+
+Another way is to send round the notes by a reliable servant-man of your
+own; or to engage, for this purpose, one of the public waiters that are
+hired to attend at parties. The notes are usually sent either eight,
+seven, or six days before the party--if it is to be very large, ten days
+or two weeks. In the notes, always specify not only the day of the week,
+but also the day of the month, when the party is to take place. It is
+very customary now to designate the hour of assembling, and then the
+company are expected to be punctual to that time. People, _really
+genteel_, do not go ridiculously late. When a ball is intended, let the
+word "Dancing" be introduced in small letters, at the lower left-hand
+corner of the note.
+
+For a bridal party, subsequent to a wedding, the words now used are
+thus--
+
+    MR. AND MRS. S. M. MORLAND,
+          At Home, on Thursday evening, Sept. 22, 1853.
+
+Their residence must be given beneath, in a corner, and in smaller
+letters.
+
+Oblong slices of plumb-cake, iced all over, are now sent round in very
+pretty white card-board boxes, exactly fitting each slice, covered on
+the inside with lace-paper, and an engraved card of the bride and groom
+laid on the top of the cake. These boxes (to be had at the fancy
+stationers,) are of various prices; some of them are very elegant and
+costly.
+
+At wedding-parties, it is usual for the bride and bridesmaids to appear
+in exactly the same dresses they wore at the marriage; all of them
+ranged in their respective stations before the company begin to arrive.
+
+When the marriage-guests are not too numerous, it is customary to have
+all the company shown into the largest parlour, when they first arrive;
+the folding-doors being closed between. Meanwhile, the bride and groom,
+bridesmaids and groomsmen, with the heads of the family, arrange
+themselves in a line or a semi-circle; the most important personages in
+the centre, with the clergyman in front of them. When all is ready, the
+doors are thrown open, the guests advance, and the ceremony begins. When
+it is over, and the bride is receiving the compliments of her friends,
+we hope the silliest woman present will not go up and ask her the
+foolish question, "If she does not feel already like an old married
+woman?"
+
+A crowd at a wedding is now obsolete. We once heard of a marriage in a
+great family, where the company was so numerous that all the doors were
+blocked up, and quite inaccessible; and the bride could only make her
+entrance by being taken round outside, and lifted through a back
+window--the groom jumping in after her.
+
+Dancing at weddings is old-fashioned. A band of music playing in the
+hall is of no use, as on such occasions no one listens to it, and some
+complain of the noise. We think a marriage in church is not as fine a
+spectacle as may be imagined. The effect is lost in the size of the
+building, and broken up by the intervention of the aisles and pews; the
+wedding guests seated in the latter, and the former occupied by people
+out of the street, coming in to see the show. And this they will do, if
+not forcibly excluded; particularly idle boys, and nurse-maids with
+children, all trying to get as near the altar as possible.
+
+If the bride and groom are to set out on a journey immediately after the
+ceremony, it is best for her to be married in a handsome
+travelling-dress--new for the occasion, of course. This is often done
+now. She can reserve the usual wedding costume for her first party after
+returning home.
+
+In preparing for a party, it is well (especially if you have had but
+little experience yourself,) to send for one of the _best_ public
+waiters, and consult with him on the newest style of "doing these
+things." A respectable coloured man will be found the most efficient for
+this purpose. He can also give you an idea of the probable expense. We
+do not, of course, allude to magnificent entertainments, such as are
+celebrated in the newspapers, and become a nine days' wonder; and are
+cited as costing, not hundreds, but thousands of dollars.
+
+In case the required waiter should be pre-engaged, it is well to send
+for, and consult him, a week or two before your party.
+
+We knew a lady who, some years ago, sent for Carroll, (a very excellent
+mulatto man, well known in Philadelphia,) to officiate at a projected
+party. Carroll, in very polite terms, expressed that he was engaged for
+that identical evening to attend at a ball. "Then," said the lady, "you
+must try to furnish me with some one else, in your place. Where is
+Bogle?" "I know Bogle can't come," answered Carroll; "he is bespoke that
+night for a wedding." "Shepherd, then?" said the lady; "see if you
+cannot send me Shepherd." "As to Shepherd," replied Carroll, "he is sick
+in his bed, and like to keep so." "Where is Solomon King, then?" pursued
+the lady; "Solomon King will do very well." "Indeed, ma'am," answered
+Carroll, "I don't think Solomon King will suit you now, anyhow; he's
+taken very much to drink, and besides he's dead!"
+
+Apropos to the talk of coloured people.--We were told by a southern
+lady, that one of her girls being dressed for an entertainment given by
+a neighbour to the servants, came to her, and said: "Mistress, Becky has
+come for me to go with her; and she says _her_ mistress has gave her two
+grand words to say at the party.--Now, I want you to give _me_ two words
+that shall beat Becky's; for I know you are a heap smarter than _her_
+mistress."
+
+"Tell me the words given by Becky's mistress," said my informant.
+
+"Yes, ma'am.--One is _Desdemona_, and one is _Cataplasm_!"
+
+No doubt, Becky, in some way, contrived to say them both.
+
+In engaging your presiding genius, it is well to desire him to come on
+the morning of the party; he will be found of great advantage in
+assisting with the final preparations. He will attend to the silver, and
+china, and glass; and see that the lamps are all in order, and that the
+fires, coal-grates, furnaces, &c., are in proper trim for evening. He
+will bring with him (at whatever hour you indicate,) his "young men," as
+he calls them; (if coloured youths, they are too genteel to answer to
+the name of boys;) and these are his apprentices that he has in training
+for the profession.
+
+One of these men should be stationed in the vestibule, or just within
+the front door. On that evening, (if not at other times,) let this door
+be furnished with a lamp, placed on a shelf or bracket in the fan-light,
+to illumine the steps, and shine down upon the pavement, where the
+ladies cross it on alighting from the carriages. If the evening proves
+rainy, let another man attend with an umbrella, to assist in sheltering
+them on their way into the house. The ladies should all wear over-shoes,
+to guard their thin slippers from the damp, in their transit from the
+coach to the vestibule.
+
+At the top, or on the landing-place, of the first stair-case, let
+another man be posted, to show the female guests to their dressing-room;
+while still another waiter stays near the gentlemen's room till the
+company have done arriving.
+
+In the apartment prepared as a fixing-room for the ladies two or more
+women should be all the evening in attendance; both rooms being well
+warmed, well lighted, and furnished with all that may be requisite for
+giving the last touches to head, feet, and figure, previous to entering
+the drawing-room. When ready to go down, the ladies meet their gentlemen
+in the passage between the respective dressing-rooms; the beaux being
+there already, waiting for the belles, who must not detain them
+long--men being very impatient on these, and all other occasions.
+
+If any lady is without an escort, and has no acquaintances at hand to
+take her under their wing, she should send for the master of the house
+to meet her near the door, and give her his arm into the drawing-room.
+He will then lead her to the hostess, and to a seat. Let her then bow,
+as a sign that she releases him from farther attendance, and leaves him
+at liberty to divide his civilities among his other guests.
+
+In the ladies' room, (beside two toilet glasses with their branches
+lighted,) let a Psyche or Cheval glass be also there. Likewise, a
+hand-mirror on each toilet to enable the ladies to see the back of their
+heads; with an ample supply of pins, combs, brushes, hair pins, &c.; and
+a work-box containing needles, thread, thimble, and scissors, to repair
+accidents to articles of dress. Let there be bottles of fine eau de
+cologne, and camphor and hartshorn, in case of faintings. Among the
+furniture, have a sofa and several foot-stools, for the ladies to sit on
+if they wish to change their shoes.
+
+The women attending must take charge of the hoods, cloaks, shawls,
+over-shoes, &c.; rolling up together the things that belong to each
+lady, and putting each bundle in some place they can easily remember
+when wanted at the breaking up of the assembly.
+
+It is now the custom for the lady of the house (and those of her own
+family,) to be dressed rather plainly, showing no desire to eclipse any
+of her guests, on this her own night. But her attire, though simple,
+should be handsome, becoming, and in good taste. Her business is,
+without any bustle or apparent officiousness, quietly and almost
+imperceptibly to try and render the evening as pleasant as possible to
+all her guests; introducing those who, though not yet acquainted, ought
+to be; and finding seats for ladies who are not young enough to continue
+standing.
+
+The custom that formerly prevailed in the absurd days of crowds and
+jams, when dense masses were squeezed into small apartments, of removing
+every seat and every piece of furniture from the room, is now obsolete.
+A hard squeeze is no longer a high boast. Genteel people no longer go to
+parties on the stair-case, or in the passages. The ladies are not now so
+compressed that nothing of them is seen but their heads; the sleeves,
+skirts, &c., undergoing a continual demolition down below. We knew of a
+lady, who, at a late hour, went to a crowded party in a real blonde
+dress, which was rubbed entirely off her before she reached the centre
+of the room, and it was hanging about her satin skirt in shreds, like
+transparent rags dissolving into "air--thin air!" For this blonde she
+had given two hundred dollars; and she was obliged to go home and
+exchange its tatters for a costume that was likely to last out the
+evening.
+
+In houses where space is not abundant, it is now customary to have
+several _moderate_ parties in the course of the season, instead of
+inviting all your "dear five hundred friends" on the self-same night.
+
+When the hour of assembling is designated in the notes of invitation,
+(as it always should be,) the guests, of course, will take care to
+arrive as nearly as possible about that hour. At large parties, tea is
+usually omitted--it being supposed that every one has already taken that
+beverage at home, previous to commencing the business of the toilette.
+Many truly hospitable ladies still continue the custom, thinking that it
+makes a pleasant beginning to the evening, and exhilarates the ladies
+after the fatigue of dressing and arriving. So it does. For a large
+company, a table with tea, coffee, and cakes, may be set in the
+ladies-room, women being in attendance to supply the guests with those
+refreshments before they go down. Pitchers of ice-water and glasses
+should also be kept in this room.
+
+If there is no tea, the refreshments begin with lemonade, macaroons,
+kisses, &c., sent round soon after the majority of the company has come.
+If there _is_ tea, ice-water should be presented after it, to all;
+otherwise, there will be much inconvenience by numerous ladies
+dispatching the servants, separately, to bring them some.
+
+After a little time allotted to conversation, music is generally
+introduced by one of the ladies of the family, if she plays well;
+otherwise, she invites a competent friend to commence. A lady who can do
+nothing "without her notes," or who cannot read music, and play at
+sight, is scarcely enough of a musician to perform in a large
+company--for this incapacity is an evidence that she has not a good ear,
+or rather a good memory for melody--or that her musical talent wants
+more cultivation. A large party is no time or place for practising, or
+for risking _attempts_ at new things, or for vainly trying to remember
+old ones.
+
+Some young ladies rarely sit down to a piano in any house but their own,
+without complaining that the instrument is out of tune. "It is a way
+they have." We have known a fair amateur to whom this complaint was
+habitual, and never omitted; even when we knew that, to provide against
+it, the piano had really been tuned that very day.
+
+The tuning of a harp immediately before playing is sometimes a very
+tedious business. Would it not be well for the harpist to come a little
+earlier than the rest, and tune it herself previous to their arrival?
+And let her deem _that_ tuning sufficient for a while, and not repeat
+the operation more than once again in the course of the evening,
+especially in the midst of her first piece. However delicate may be her
+own ear, or exquisitely fastidious her own taste, she may be assured
+that few of her audience would detect any deficiency, if she only went
+quietly on, and did not herself imply that deficiency.
+
+Unless a gentleman is himself familiar with the air, let him not, on
+"mounting guard beside the piano," volunteer to turn over the pages for
+the lady who is playing. He will certainly turn them over too soon or
+too late, and therefore annoy and confuse her. Still worse, let him not
+attempt to accompany her with his voice, unless he is an excellent
+musician, or accustomed to singing with her.
+
+For the hearers to crowd closely round the instrument, is smothering to
+the vocalist. Let them keep at a proper distance, and she will sing the
+better, and they will hear the better. It is so rude to talk during a
+song, that it is never done in company; but a little low conversation is
+sometimes tolerated in the adjoining room, during the performance of one
+of those interminable pieces of instrumental music, whose chief merit
+lies in its difficulty, and which (at least to the ears of the
+uninitiated,) is rather a bore than a pleasure. We have read a French
+novel, in which the only child of a farmer has just come home from a
+provincial boarding-school, and the seigneur, or lord of the manor, has
+volunteered a visit to these his respected tenants. The mother, amidst
+all the bustle of preparing a great dinner for the occasion, comes in to
+remind Annette that if the seigneur should ask her to play for him, she
+is to curtsey very low, and thank him for the honour. "And then,
+Annette," adds the good old dame, "be sure to play that tune which your
+father and I hate so much!"
+
+By the bye, it is very old fashioned to return thanks to a lady for her
+singing, or to tell her she is very kind to oblige the company so often.
+If she is conscious of really singing well, and sees that she delights
+her hearers, she will not feel sensible of fatigue--at least till the
+agreeable excitement of conscious success is over.
+
+It is ill-mannered, when a lady has just finished a song, for
+another lady to exclaim in her hearing--"Mary Jones sings that
+delightfully!"--or--"How charmingly Susan Smith gives us that
+ballad!" Let the glories of Mary Jones and Susan Smith rest, for
+that evening, within the limits of their own circle.
+
+Do not ask any lady for a song that has already been sung on this very
+evening by another person.
+
+People who have no idea of music sometimes make strange blunders in
+their requests. We know of a female who, at a large party, hearing a
+young lady accompany her voice on the national instrument of Spain,
+became very urgent to have the Battle of Prague performed on the guitar.
+
+It is sometimes fashionable, when the company is not too large for what
+is called "a sitting party," to vary the amusements of the evening by
+introducing some of the numerous plays or games which are always the
+delight of fine children, and which, by way of variety, frequently
+afford much diversion to adults. It is not necessary that all these
+plays should become "a keen encounter of the wits," or that all the
+players should be persons of talent. But it is certainly desirable that
+the majority of the company should have some tact, and some quickness of
+parts; that they should have read some books, and mixed somewhat with
+the world--otherwise, they will not be clever even at playing plays.
+Those who are incapable of understanding, or entering into the spirit of
+a play, would do well to excuse themselves from joining in it, and
+prefer sitting by as spectators. Many young ladies can play nothing
+beyond "How do you like it?" and are not great at that--saying, when the
+question is put to them--"Me! I am sure I don't know how I like
+it--can't you pass me by?" You may as well take her at her word, pass
+her by, and proceed on to her next neighbour; for if she _does_ concoct
+an answer, it will probably, if the word is "_brush_" be liked "to sweep
+the hearth with;" or if "_Hat_" is the word, it will be liked "_of
+Beaver_"--or something equally palpable.
+
+Such plays as _The Lawyer_, and _The Secret Word_, are very entertaining
+in good hands, but complete failures when attempted by the dull or
+illiterate. The amusing game of Proverbs had best be given up for that
+evening, if, on trial, it is found that few of the ladies have any
+knowledge of those true, though homely aphorisms, that have been aptly
+called "the concentrated wisdom of nations."
+
+We know a very ingenious gentleman who, in playing the Secret Word,
+contrives to introduce that word in some very short and very humorous
+anecdote.
+
+A family, on one side of European origin, made a visit to the
+transatlantic continent, where they found, still living in a certain
+great city, a relative connected with an ancient branch of nobility.
+This rendered them more genteel than ever--and when, covered with glory,
+they returned to this poor republic of ours, the names of nobles, and
+even of princes, with whom they had associated, were "familiar in their
+mouths as household words." At a party where these personages were so
+engaged in talking, that they forgot to keep the run of the plays; a new
+game was commenced by a young gentleman slipping out of the room, and
+then returning with a very lugubrious visage, and announcing, in a
+melancholy tone, the death of a certain monarch, whom all the company
+were immediately to unite in lamenting loudly, on pain of paying
+forfeits unless they steadily persisted in their dismal faces. On the
+sad intelligence being proclaimed--"The king of Bohemia is dead!"--one
+of our travelled ladies mistaking it for a solemn truth, turned to her
+daughter with--"Ah! Caroline! did you hear that? The dear good king of
+Bohemia, who was so kind to us whenever we attended his court!" "Oh!
+mamma!" replied Caroline, putting her handkerchief to her eyes--"the
+news is really heart-breaking. He paid us so much attention all the time
+we were in ----, in his dominions. It will be long before we cease
+grieving for the king of Bohemia."
+
+The gentleman who brought this deplorable news also had recourse to
+_his_ handkerchief, and slipped out into the hall to indulge his mirth;
+and several others slipped out after him for the same purpose. No one,
+however, undeceived these ladies, and for several days at their morning
+calls they continued to mourn for the king of Bohemia.
+
+Conundrums[18] afford infinite diversion at a small party, provided the
+company, like Billy Black's cat, "almost always gives up." Long guessing
+occupies too much time; a commodity of which we Americans seldom have
+any to spare.
+
+Early in the Mexican war, a premium was awarded in Philadelphia for a
+very clever conundrum, alluding to a certain "Bold Dragoon" at Palo
+Alto. "In what manner did Captain May cheat the Mexicans?" "He charged
+them with a troop of horse which they never got."
+
+Our confectioners, in making up the _bon bons_ called "_secrets_,"
+instead of enfolding with the sugar-plumb a printed slip containing a
+contemptible distich, would do well to have good conundrums printed,
+(with the answer,) and enclosed in the ornamented papers. They would
+certainly be more popular than the old-fashioned mottoes--such, for
+instance, as
+
+    "My heart, like a candle of four to the pound,
+    Consumes all the day, and no comfort is found."
+
+Yet the above is one of the least bad. Most of these mottoes are so flat
+as to be not even ridiculous.
+
+At a dancing party, the ladies of the house decline joining in it, out
+of politeness to their guests, till towards the latter part of the
+evening, when the company begins to thin off, and the dancers are
+fatigued.
+
+We admire a charming girl, who, in her own house, being asked to dance
+by an agreeable man, has the self-denial to say to him--"Being at home,
+and desirous that my friends shall share as much as possible in the
+enjoyments of the evening, I would rather refrain from dancing myself.
+Let me present you to Miss Lindley, or to Miss Darwood; you will find
+either of these young ladies a delightful partner."
+
+These amiable refusals we have heard from our amiable and unselfish
+young friends, and such, we hope, are heard often in what is _truly_
+"the best society."
+
+Ladies who are strangers in the place, are, by courtesy, entitled to
+particular attention from those who know them.
+
+We have sometimes seen, at a private ball, the least attractive woman
+dancing every set, (though acquitting herself very ill,) while handsome
+and agreeable ladies were sitting still. The mystery was solved on
+finding that the lady of the house carried her ultra benevolence so very
+far, as to make a business of procuring partners all the time for this
+unlovely and unprepossessing female, lest she should feel neglected. Now
+a certain portion of this officiousness is highly praiseworthy, but too
+much of it is a great annoyance to the victimized gentlemen--especially
+to those who, as a backwoodsman would say, are certainly "some
+pumpkins."
+
+Even the most humane man, whatever may be the kindness of his heart,
+would rather not exhibit himself on the floor with a partner _ni jeune
+ni jolie_, who is ill-dressed, looks badly, moves ungracefully, can
+neither keep time to the music nor understand the figure, and in fact
+has "no dancing in her soul." If, with all the rest, she is dull and
+stupid, it is cruel for any kind friend to inflict her on a gentleman
+as a partner. Yet such things we have seen.
+
+On one occasion we threw away a great deal of good pity on a youth, whom
+we thought had been inveigled into quadrilling with a lady who made the
+worst figure we ever saw in a ball-room. We afterwards learned that he
+had actually solicited the introduction; and we saw that he devoted
+himself to her all the remainder of the evening. She was a rich heiress.
+
+Self-knowledge is a rare acquirement. But when a lady _does_ suspect
+herself to be deficient in all the essential qualifications of a
+ball-room, she should give up dancing entirely, and be magnanimous
+enough always to excuse herself positively, when asked to dance;
+especially if verging on "a certain age." Let all "trippings on the
+light fantastic toe" be left to the young and gay.
+
+A deformed woman dancing is "a sorry sight." She should never consent to
+any such exhibition of her unhappy figure. She will only be asked out of
+mere compassion, or from some interested and unworthy motive. We are
+asked--"Why should not such a lady dance, if it gives her pleasure?" We
+answer--"It should _not_ give her pleasure."
+
+When a lady is so unfortunate as to have a crooked, or misshapen person,
+it is well for her to conceal it as much as possible, by wearing a
+shawl, a large cape, a mantilla, a long sacque, (not a polka jacket;)
+and on no account a tight-bodied pelisse; or still worse, a
+spencer--than which last, nothing is more trying to the form of the
+waist, except a riding-habit.
+
+We saw Frederika Bremer at an evening assemblage, and she was so
+judiciously attired, that her personal defects did not prevent her from
+looking really well. Over a rich black satin dress, she wore a long
+loose sacque of black lace, lined with grey silk. From beneath the short
+sleeves of her sacque, came down long wide sleeves of white lace,
+confined with bracelets round her fair and delicate little hands. Her
+throat was covered closely with a handsome collar of French embroidered
+muslin, and her beautiful and becoming cap was of white lace, white
+flowers, and white satin ribbon--her light hair being simply parted on
+her broad and intellectual forehead. With her lively blue eyes, and the
+bright and pleasant expression of her countenance, no one seemed to
+notice the faults of her nose, mouth, and complexion--and those of her
+figure were so well concealed as to be scarcely apparent. And then her
+lady-like ease, and the total absence of all affectation, rendered her
+graceful and prepossessing. True it is, that with a good heart and a
+good mind no woman can be ugly; at least, they soon cease to be so
+considered, even if nature has been unkind to them in feature, figure,
+and complexion. An intelligent eye, and a good humoured mouth, are
+excellent substitutes for the want of regular beauty. Physiognomists say
+that the eye denotes the mind, and the mouth indicates the heart.
+
+Now as a deformed lady may render herself very agreeable as a good
+conversationist, we repeat that she has no occasion to exhibit the
+defects of her person by treading the mazes of a cotillion, or above
+all, in going down a country dance, should those "never-ending, still
+beginning" performances come again into fashion. Young men say that an
+ugly, misshapen female, who waltzes, or joins in a polka, or redowa, or
+mazurka, deserves the penitentiary.
+
+We deprecate the practice of keeping the small children of the family up
+all the evening, running and scampering in every one's way, or sleeping
+about on the chairs and sofas, and crying when wakened up to be carried
+to bed. Would it not be much better to have them sent to bed at their
+usual time? We knew two well-trained little boys, who submitted
+obediently to go to bed at their customary hour, on the night of their
+mother's party, of which they had seen nothing but the decorations of
+the parlours. They told their parents next morning, that still they had
+a great deal of pleasure, for after the carriages began to arrive, they
+had lain awake and "heard every ring."
+
+At a large party, or at a wedding, there is generally a supper table;
+lemonade and cakes having been sent round during the evening. The host
+and hostess should see that _all_ the ladies are conducted thither, and
+that none are neglected, particularly those that are timid, and stand
+back. It is the business of the host to attend to those himself, or to
+send the waiters to them.
+
+If the party is so large that all the ladies cannot go to the table at
+once, let the matrons be conducted thither first, and the young ladies
+afterwards. If there is a crowd, it is not unusual to have a cord (a
+handsome one, of course,) stretched across the door of the supper-room,
+and guarded by a servant, who explains that no more are to pass till
+after that cord is taken down. Meanwhile, the younger part of the
+company amuse themselves in the adjacent rooms. No lady should take the
+liberty of meddling with the flowers that ornament the table, or of
+secreting "good things" to carry home to her children.
+
+Apropos to flowers.--The stiff, hard bouquets are now obsolete, where
+the flowers (stripped of their natural green leaves,) were tied _en
+masse_ on a wooden skewer, against a flat back-ground of cedar sprays.
+The more elegant arrangement is revived of arranging them in a full
+round cluster, with a fair portion of their real leaves; the largest and
+finest flowers in the centre, (large white ones particularly); those of
+middle size next; and the light, long, and branchy sprays and tendrils
+at the extremities, the smallest near the bottom of the bouquet, which
+is not so large and massy as formerly, but more graceful and select. The
+bouquet may be carried on the young lady's arm, suspended to a long and
+handsome white ribbon tied in a bow--a _coloured_ ribbon will disturb
+the effect of the flowers. There should be nothing to interfere with
+their various and beautiful tints.
+
+At a ball, let no _coloured_ chalks or crayons be used for the floor.
+They will rub off on the white shoes of the ladies, and spoil them.
+
+When, instead of _setting_ a supper-table, refreshments are handed round
+to the ladies, the fashion has long since gone by of a gentleman walking
+beside each waiter, and "assisting the ladies." It is now found that if
+the articles are properly arranged, and of the proper sort, the ladies
+can much more conveniently help themselves, and with less risk of
+staining or greasing their dresses. Unless the gentleman was "a
+thorough-going party-man," and stereotyped as such, he often committed
+rather vexatious blunders, particularly if he was not _au-courant_ to
+the new improvements, and accustomed to being "at good men's feasts;" or
+rather, at _women's good feasts_. One evening at a party, we saw an
+"ingenuous youth," whose experience in that line must have been rather
+limited, officiously undertake the portioning out to the ladies of a
+composition hitherto quite new to himself. This was "a trifle," being
+the contents of a very large glass bowl, filled with macaroons, &c.,
+dissolved in wine, &c., with profuse layers of custard, sweetmeats, &c.,
+and covered in at the top with a dome of whipt cream heaped high and
+thick over the whole. The pea-green youth assisted the ladies to nothing
+but saucers of froth from the top, thinking that was the right way. At
+last, the mulatto man, whose superior tact must have been all this time
+in a state of suffering, explained to the novice in trifles, that a
+portion of all the various contents of the glass bowl should be allotted
+to each saucer. "That!" said the surprised doer of honours, "I thought
+all that was only the grounds!" The coloured man relieved him by taking
+the silver server round a second time to all the ladies, who had
+hitherto missed the sediment of the syllabub.
+
+At a summer evening party, the refreshments are of a much lighter
+description than at a winter entertainment; consisting chiefly of
+ice-creams, water-ices, fresh fruit, lady-cake, and almond sponge-cake.
+Also strawberry or raspberry charlottes, which are made by arranging in
+glass bowls slices of cake cut in even and regular forms, and spread
+thickly over with the fruit mashed to a jam with white sugar--the bowls
+being heaped with whipt cream.
+
+The dresses of the ladies are of clear muslin, or some other light
+material, and without any elaborate trimming. The hair is simply
+arranged--curls being inconvenient in warm weather; and the only head
+ornaments are ribbons, or _real_ flowers.
+
+At summer evening-parties the veranda is always put into requisition,
+being cooler than any part of the house.
+
+At summer dinner-parties, let the dessert be served in another and
+cooler apartment; the company quitting the dining-room as soon as they
+have done with the meats, &c. The beauties of the dessert appear to
+greater advantage, when seen all at one view on a fresh table.
+
+We will introduce a minute account of a very fashionable English
+dinner-party, obtained from a friend who was one of the guests. It may
+afford some hints for the routine of an elegant entertainment, _a
+l'Anglais_, in our own country.
+
+The guests were twenty-four in number, and they began to assemble at
+half past seven, punctually. They were received in the library, where
+the host and hostess were standing ready to receive them, introducing
+those who were strangers to each other. When all had arrived, the butler
+entered, and going up to the lady of the house, told her in a low voice
+that "dinner was served." The hostess then arranged those that were not
+previously acquainted, and the gentlemen conducted the ladies to the
+dining-room; the principal stranger taking the mistress of the house,
+and the master giving his arm to the chief of the female guests. In
+England, these arrangements are made according to the rank of the
+ladies--that of the gentlemen is not considered. A duchess takes
+precedence of a marchioness, a viscountess of a countess, a baroness of
+a baron_et_'s lady, &c.,--for a baron is above a baronet. Going into the
+dining-room, the company passed by the butler and eight footmen, all of
+whom were stationed in two rows. The butler was dressed entirely in
+black--the footmen in their livery. According to a new fashion, they may
+now wear long gaiters. White kid gloves are indispensable to the
+footmen.
+
+The table was set for twenty-six--and standing on it were elegant gilt
+candelabras. _All_ the lights were wax candles. Chandeliers were
+suspended from the ceiling. In the middle of the table was a magnificent
+plateau, or centre ornament of gold; flowers surmounted the summit; and
+the circular stages below were covered with confectionery elegantly
+arranged. On each side of the plateau, and above and below, were tall
+china fruit-baskets. In the centre of each basket were immense
+pine-apples of hot-house growth, with their fresh green leaves. Below
+the pine-apples were large bunches of purple and white hot-house
+grapes, beautifully disposed, with leaves and tendrils hanging over the
+sides of the baskets. Down each side of the whole long table, were
+placed large, round, saucer-shaped fruit-dishes, heaped up with peaches,
+nectarines, pears, plumbs, ripe gooseberries, cherries, currants,
+strawberries, &c. All the fruits not in season were supplied from
+hot-houses. And alternating with the fruit were all the _entremets_ in
+covered dishes, placed on long slips of damask the whole length of the
+table. All the plate was superb. The dinner-set was of French china,
+gilt, and painted with roses. At every plate was a caraffe of water,
+with a tumbler turned down over it, and several wine-glasses. The
+napkins were large. The side-board held only the show-silver and the
+wine. The side-tables were covered with elegant damask cloths. On these
+were ranged, laid along in numerous rows, the knives, forks, and spoons
+to be used at dinner. The dessert-spoons were in the form of hollow
+leaves, the stems being the handles. They were beautifully engraved in
+tasteful patterns. The fruit-knives had silver blades and pearl handles.
+There were two soups (white and brown,) standing on a side-table. Each
+servant handed the things in his white kid gloves, and with a damask
+napkin under his thumb. They offered (mentioning its name in a low
+voice,) a plate of each soup to each guest. After the soup, Hock and
+Moselle wine were offered to each guest, that they might choose either.
+A dish of fish was then placed at each end of the table--one was salmon,
+the other turbot. These dishes were immediately taken off to be helped
+by the servants, both sorts of fish being offered to each person. Then
+the appropriate sauce for the fish--also cucumbers to eat with the
+salmon. No castors were on the large table, but they were handed round
+by the servants. Directly after the fish came the _entremets_, or French
+dishes. The wine following the fish was Madeira and Sherry.
+
+Afterwards, a saddle or haunch of Welsh mutton was placed at the
+master's end of the table, and at the lady's end a boiled turkey. These
+dishes being removed to the side-tables, very thin slices of each were
+handed round. The poultry was not dissected--nothing being helped but
+the breast. Ham and tongue was then supplied to those who took poultry;
+and currant-jelly to the eaters of mutton. Next came the vegetables,
+handed round on dishes divided into four compartments, each division
+containing a different sort of vegetable.
+
+Next, two dishes of game were put on--one before the master of the
+house, and the other before the mistress. The game (which was perfectly
+well-done,) was helped by them, and sent round with the appropriate
+sauce. Then, placed along the table, were the sweet things--charlottes,
+jellies, frozen fruit, &c. A lobster salad, dressed and cut up large,
+was put on with the sweets. On a side-table were stilton and cream
+cheese, to be eaten with the salad. After this, port wine--the champagne
+being early in the dinner. Next the sweets were handed round. With the
+sweets were frozen fruits--fruits cut up, and frozen with
+isinglass-jelly, (red, in moulds.)
+
+Next, a dessert plate was given to each guest, and on it a ground glass
+plate, about the size of a saucer. Between these plates was a
+crochet-worked white doyly, of the size of the under-plate; the
+crochet-work done with thread, so as to resemble lace. These doylies
+were laid under the ground-glass plate, to deaden the noise of their
+collision. Then was brought from the side-table a ground-glass plate of
+ice-cream, or water-ice, which you took in exchange for that before you.
+The water-ice was frozen in moulds, in the form of fruit, and suitably
+coloured. The baskets containing the fruit were then removed to the
+side-tables, where the servants had silver scissors, with which they
+clipped off small bunches of the grapes, and the green tops of the
+pine-apples, and a portion of the flesh of the fruit. The middle part
+was then pared and sliced. On each dessert-plate was placed a slice of
+pine-apple, and small bunches of white and blue grapes. After the grapes
+and pine-apples were thus handed round, the dishes of the other fruits
+were then offered successively to every guest. After the ground-glass
+and doylies, there was no farther change of plates.
+
+After sitting a while over the fruit, the lady of the house gives the
+signal, by looking and bowing to the ladies on each side, and the ladies
+at this signal prepare to retire. The gentlemen all rise, and remain
+standing while the ladies depart--the master of the house holding the
+door open. The servants then all retire, except the butler, who remains
+to wait on the gentlemen, while they linger awhile (not more than a
+quarter of an hour,) over the fruit and wine.
+
+FOOTNOTE:
+
+[18] Miss Leslie's American Girl's Book (published by C. S. Francis,)
+contains a great variety of amusing plays, ways to redeem forfeits, &c.,
+with an unusual number of conundrums.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV.
+
+MISCELLANIES.
+
+
+It may be well to caution our young friends against certain bad
+practices, easily contracted, but sometimes difficult to relinquish. The
+following are things not to be done:--Biting your nails. Slipping a ring
+up and down your finger. Sitting cross-kneed, and, jogging your feet.
+Drumming on the table with your knuckles; or, still worse, tinking on a
+piano with _your fore-finger only_. Humming a tune before strangers.
+Singing as you go up and down stairs. Putting your arm round the neck of
+another young girl, or promenading the room with arms encircling waists.
+Holding the hand of a friend all the time she sits beside you; or
+kissing and fondling her before company. Sitting too closely.
+
+Slapping a gentleman with your handkerchief, or tapping him with your
+fan. Allowing him to take a ring off your finger, to look at it.
+Permitting him to unclasp your bracelet, or, still worse, to inspect
+your brooch. When these ornaments are to be shown to another person,
+always take them off for the purpose. Pulling at your own ringlets, or
+your own ear-rings--or fingering your neck ribbon. Suffering a
+gentleman to touch your curls. Reading with a gentleman off the same
+book or newspaper. Looking over the shoulder of any person who is
+reading or writing. Taking up a _written_ paper from the table, and
+examining it.
+
+To listen at door-cracks, and peep through key-holes, is vulgar and
+contemptible. So it is to ask children questions concerning their
+parents, though such things are still done.
+
+If you mean that you were angry, do not say you were "mad."--"It made me
+so mad"--"I was quite mad at her," are phrases not to be used by people
+considering themselves genteel. Anger and madness are not the same, or
+should not be; though it is true that ungoverned rage, is, sometimes,
+carried so far as to seem like insanity.
+
+Enter into no freaks of fashion that are silly, unmeaning, and
+unlady-like; even if they _have_ been introduced by a belle, and
+followed by other belles. Commit no absurdity because a public singer or
+dancer has done so in her ignorance of good behaviour. During the Jenny
+Lind fever, there were young ladies who affected to skuttle into a
+drawing-room all of a sudden, somewhat as the fair Swede came skuttling
+in upon the concert stage, because in reality she knew not how to make
+her entrance gracefully. Other demoiselles twined and waved about, with
+body, head, and eyes, never a moment quiet. This squirming (as it was
+called) originated in a very bad imitation of Fanny Elssler's dancing
+motions. At one time there were girls at parties, who stood on one
+foot, and with the other kicked up their dresses behind, while talking
+to gentlemen. This fashion began with a celebrated beauty who "dared do
+any thing." Luckily, these "whims and oddities" are always of short
+duration, and are never adopted by young ladies of good taste and
+refinement.
+
+Do not nod your head, or beat time with fan or foot while listening to
+music.
+
+Never at a party consent to accompany another lady in a duet, unless you
+are accustomed to singing with her. Still worse--do not volunteer to
+"assist" her in a song that is not a duet. Each voice will interrupt and
+spoil the other. A lady who sings by ear only, cannot accompany one that
+sings by note.
+
+One of the most horrible sounds imaginable is that produced by several
+fine voices all singing different songs. This cats' concert (as
+school-girls call it) results in a shocking and yet ludicrous discord,
+equally frightful and laughable. And yet all the performers are singing
+individually well. Try it.
+
+Raising a window-sash, in cold weather, without first ascertaining if
+the rest of the company are, like yourself, too warm. Leaving the
+parlour door open in winter--a perpetual occurrence at hotels and
+boarding-houses.
+
+Talking so loudly that you can be heard all over the room. Or so low
+that you cannot be heard at all, even by those who are conversing with
+you. This last fault is the worst. To talk with one who has a habit of
+muttering unintelligibly, is like trying to read a letter illegibly
+written.
+
+Using too often the word "madam" or "ma'am," which in fact, is now
+nearly obsolete in familiar conversation. In the old French tragedies
+the lovers addressed their mistresses as "madam." But then the stage
+Alexander wore a powdered wig, and a laced coat, knee-breeches, and a
+long-skirted waistcoat; and Roxana figured in a hoop-petticoat, a
+brocade gown, a flowered apron, and a towering gauze cap. The frequent
+use of "sir" is also out of fashion. "Yes, ma'am," "No, ma'am," "Yes,
+sir," "No, sir," no longer sounds well, except from children to their
+elders. If you have not distinctly heard what another lady has just said
+to you, do not denote it by saying, "Ma'am?" but remark to her, "Excuse
+me, I did not exactly hear you!"
+
+Never, in a public parlour, place yourself in a position where you can
+secretly hear conversation that is not intended for you--for instance in
+a corner behind a pillar. If you hear yourself talked of, it is mean to
+stay and listen. It is a true adage that "Listeners seldom hear any good
+of themselves."
+
+However smart and witty you may be considered, do not exercise your wit
+in rallying and bantering your friends. If you do so, their friendship
+will soon be worn out, or converted into positive enmity. A jest that
+carries a sting with it can never give a pleasant sensation to the
+object. The bite of a musquito is a very little thing, but it leaves
+pain and inflammation behind it, and the more it is rubbed the longer it
+rankles in the blood. No one likes to have their foibles or mishaps
+turned into ridicule--before other persons especially. And few can
+cordially join in a laugh that is raised against themselves.
+
+The slightest jest on the personal defects of those you are conversing
+with, is an enormity of rudeness and vulgarity. It is, in fact, a sneer
+at the Creator that made them so. No human creature is accountable for
+being too small, or too large; for an ill-formed figure, or for
+ill-shaped limbs; for irregular features, or a bad complexion.
+
+Still worse, to rally any person (especially a woman) on her age, or to
+ask indirect questions with a view of discovering what her age really
+is. If we continue to live, we must continue to grow old. We must either
+advance in age, or we must die. Where then is the shame of surviving our
+youth? And when youth departs, beauty goes along with it. At least as
+much beauty as depends on complexion, hair, and teeth. In arriving at
+middle age, (or a little beyond it,) a lady must compound for the loss
+of either face or figure. About that period she generally becomes
+thinner, or fatter. If thin, her features shrink, and her skin shrivels
+and fades; even though she retains a slender and perhaps a girlish form.
+If she grows fat, her skin may continue smooth, and her complexion fine,
+and her neck and arms may be rounder and handsomer than in girlhood; but
+then symmetry of shape will cease--and she must reconcile herself to the
+change as best she can. But a woman with a good mind, a good heart, and
+a good temper, can never at any age grow ugly--for an intelligent and
+pleasant expression is in itself beauty, and the best sort of beauty.
+
+Sad indeed is the condition of women in the decline of life when "No
+lights of age adorn them." When, having neglected in the spring and
+summer to lay up any stores for the winter that is sure to come, they
+find themselves left in the season of desolation with nothing to fall
+back upon--no pleasant recollections of the acquisition of knowledge or
+the performance of good deeds, and nothing to talk about but the idle
+gossip of the day--striving painfully to look younger than they really
+are; still haunting balls and parties, and enduring all the discomforts
+of crowded watering-places, long after all pleasure in such scenes must
+have passed away. But then they must linger in public because they are
+miserable at home, having no resources within themselves, and few
+enduring friends to enliven them with their society.
+
+The woman that knows how to grow old gracefully, will adapt her dress to
+her figure and her age, and wear colours that suit her present
+complexion. If her neck and arms are thin, she will not expose them
+under any circumstances. If her hair is grey, she will not decorate it
+with flowers and flimsy ribbons. If her cheeks are hollow, she will not
+make her face look still longer and thinner by shadowing it with long
+ringlets; and setting her head-dress far back--but she will give it as
+much softness as she can, by a light cap-border tied under her chin. She
+will not squeeze herself out of all human shape by affecting a long
+tight _corsage_; and she will wear no dresses glaring with huge flowers,
+or loaded with gaudy trimmings. She will allude to her age as a thing of
+course; she will speak without hesitation of former times, though the
+recollection proves her to be really old. She will be kind and indulgent
+to the young; and the young will respect and love her, and gladly
+assemble near her chair, and be amused and unconsciously instructed. As
+long as she lives and retains her faculties she will endeavour to
+improve, and to become still a wiser and a better woman; never excusing
+herself by indolently and obstinately averring that "she is too old to
+learn," or that she cannot give up her old-fashioned habits. If she
+finds that those habits are unwarrantable, or that they are annoying to
+her friends, she ought to relinquish them. No one with a mind
+unimpaired, and a heart still fresh, is too old to learn.
+
+This book is addressed chiefly to the young; but we shall be much
+gratified by finding that even old ladies have found in it some
+advantageous suggestions on points that had hitherto escaped their
+notice.
+
+
+        THE END.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+Typos, spelling and punctuation errors fixed.
+
+P. 168, "inverted commas"--represented as curved opening and closing
+quotation marks as used throughout the original.
+
+P. 218, "you know," repeated, is faithful to the original. Retained
+since repetition may have been intended by the author to indicate
+over-use of the phrase.
+
+P. 279, "placing this mark /\ below"--the symbol is an upside-down V
+(joined at the top) in the original.
+
+P. 288, "ankles;" original reads "ancles."
+
+P. 289, "Blind-man's bluff;" original reads "buff."
+
+P. 330, Original chapter heading numbered "XXIV." Corrected to "XXV."
+
+Variations changed to more frequent usage: Commonplace to common-place,
+despatch/ to dispatch/, drest to dressed, inclos/ to enclos/, inquiries
+to enquiries, intrust/ to entrust/, steam-boat to steamboat, and
+unladylike to unlady-like.
+
+Entremets and entremets corrected to entremets.
+
+Unusual spellings in the original that were retained include:
+cotemporary, extatic, mattrass, negor, receipt (for recipe), segars,
+Shakspeare, sociablist, and visiter.
+
+Also retained because used equally: bed-chambers and bedchambers,
+before-hand and beforehand, foot-stool(s) and footstool(s), ink-stand
+and inkstand (in this case, one each was present in original, plus one
+broken at line's end. I opted to remove the hyphen on rejoining, as it
+was closer in the text to the other non-hyphenated version).
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ladies' Guide to True Politeness
+and Perfect Manners, by Eliza Leslie
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LADIES' GUIDE TO TRUE POLITENESS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 37988.txt or 37988.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/8/37988/
+
+Produced by Julia Miller, JoAnn Greenwood, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/37988.zip b/37988.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a02575f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/37988.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..68d56f7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #37988 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/37988)