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<pre>

The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gentlemen's Book of Etiquette and
Manual of Politeness, by Cecil B. Hartley

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license


Title: The Gentlemen's Book of Etiquette and Manual of Politeness
       Being a Complete Guide for a Gentleman's Conduct in all
              his Relations Towards Society

Author: Cecil B. Hartley

Release Date: March 28, 2012 [EBook #39293]

Language: English

Character set encoding: UTF-8

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOOK OF ETIQUETTE ***




Produced by Julia Miller, S.D., and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
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</pre>


<div id="titlepg">
<h1><span class="wee">THE</span><br />
GENTLEMEN’S BOOK OF ETIQUETTE,<br />
<span class="wee">AND</span><br />
MANUAL OF POLITENESS;</h1>

<p class="center sm">BEING<br /><br />

A COMPLETE GUIDE FOR A GENTLEMAN’S CONDUCT IN ALL<br />
HIS RELATIONS TOWARDS SOCIETY.</p>

<p class="center sm">CONTAINING<br /><br />

RULES FOR THE ETIQUETTE TO BE OBSERVED IN THE STREET, AT<br />
TABLE, IN THE BALL ROOM, EVENING PARTY, AND MORNING<br />
CALL; WITH FULL DIRECTIONS FOR POLITE CORRESPONDENCE,<br />
DRESS, CONVERSATION, MANLY EXERCISES,<br />
AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS.</p>

<p class="center">FROM THE BEST FRENCH, ENGLISH, AND AMERICAN AUTHORITIES.</p>

<p class="center"><span class="sm">BY</span><br />
<span class="med">CECIL B. HARTLEY.</span></p>

<p class="center">BOSTON:<br />
G. W. COTTRELL, PUBLISHER,<br />
<span class="smcap">36 Cornhill</span>.</p>
</div>

<p id="copy">
<span class="sm">Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by</span><br />

G. G. EVANS,<br />

<span class="sm">in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania.</span></p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">{3}</a></span></p>

<h2>INTRODUCTION.</h2>

<p class="center sm">[<a href="#CONTENTS">Skip to Table of Contents</a>]</p>

<p>Man was not intended to live like a bear or a hermit, apart
from others of his own nature, and, philosophy and reason will
each agree with me, that man was born for sociability and finds
his true delight in society. Society is a word capable of many
meanings, and used here in each and all of them. Society,
<i>par excellence</i>; the world at large; the little clique to which he
is bound by early ties; the companionship of friends or relatives;
even society <i>tete a tete</i> with one dear sympathizing soul, are
pleasant states for a man to be in.</p>

<p>Taking the word in its most extended view, it is the world;
but in the light we wish to impress in our book it is the smaller
world of the changing, pleasant intercourse of each city or town
in which our reader may chance to abide.</p>

<p>This society, composed, as it is, of many varying natures
and elements, where each individual must submit to merge his
own identity into the universal whole, which makes the word
and state, is divided and subdivided into various cliques, and
has a pastime for every disposition, grave or gay; and with each
division rises up a new set of forms and ceremonies to be observed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">{4}</a></span>
if you wish to glide down the current of polite life,
smoothly and pleasantly.</p>

<p>The young man who makes his first entrance into the world
of society, should know how to choose his friends, and next
how to conduct himself towards them. Experience is, of
course, the best guide, but at first starting this must come second
hand, from an older friend, or from books.</p>

<p>A judicious friend is the best guide; but how is the young
man to know whom to choose? When at home this friend is
easily selected; but in this country, where each bird leaves the
parent nest as soon as his wings will bear him safely up, there
are but few who stay amongst the friends at home.</p>

<p>Next then comes the instruction from books.</p>

<p>True a book will not fully supply the place either of experience
or friendly advice, still it may be made useful, and, carefully
written from the experience of heads grown gray in
society, with only well authenticated rules, it will be a guide
not to be despised by the young aspirant for favor in polite and
refined circles.</p>

<p>You go into society from mixed motives; partly for pleasure,
recreation after the fatigues of your daily duties, and partly
that you may become known. In a republican country where
one man’s opportunities for rising are as good as those of another,
ambition will lead every rising man into society.</p>

<p>You may set it down as a rule, that as you treat the world,
so the world will treat you. Carry into the circles of society
a refined, polished manner, and an amiable desire to please,
and it will meet you with smiling grace, and lead you forward
pleasantly along the flowery paths; go, on the contrary, with a
brusque, rude manner, startling all the silky softness before you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">{5}</a></span>
with cut and thrust remarks, carrying only the hard realities
of life in your hand, and you will find society armed to meet
you, showing only sharp corners and thorny places for your
blundering footsteps to stumble against.</p>

<p>You will find in every circle that etiquette holds some sway;
her rule is despotic in some places, in others mild, and easily
set aside. Your first lesson in society will be to study where
she reigns supreme, in her crown and holding her sceptre, and
where she only glides in with a gentle hint or so, and timidly
steps out if rebuked; and let your conduct be governed by the
result of your observations. You will soon become familiar
with the signs, and tell on your first entrance into a room
whether kid gloves and exquisite finish of manner will be appropriate,
or whether it is “hail, fellow, well met” with the
inmates. Remember, however, “once a gentleman always a
gentleman,” and be sure that you can so carry out the rule,
that in your most careless, joyous moments, when freest from
the restraints of etiquette, you can still be recognizable as a
<em>gentleman</em> by every act, word, or look.</p>

<p>Avoid too great a restraint of manner. Stiffness is not politeness,
and, while you observe every rule, you may appear to
heed none. To make your politeness part of yourself, inseparable
from every action, is the height of gentlemanly elegance
and finish of manner.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">{6}</a></span></p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"><br />{7}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>

<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Table of Contents">

<tr><td></td><td class="num sm">PAGE</td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Introduction</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Conversation</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Politeness</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_31">31</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Table Etiquette</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_50">50</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Etiquette in the Street</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Etiquette for Calling</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">{8}</a></span>
<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Etiquette for the Ball room</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_91">91</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Dress</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_116">116</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Manly Exercises</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_154">154</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Traveling</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_176">176</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Etiquette in Church</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">One Hundred Hints for Gentlemanly Deportment</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Parties</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Courtesy at Home</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">True Courtesy</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_244">244</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Letter Writing</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">{9}</a></span>
<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Wedding Etiquette</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_280">280</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Etiquette for Places of Amusement</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_294">294</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="chap" colspan="2"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="smcap">Miscellaneous</td><td class="num"><a href="#Page_298">298</a></td></tr>
</table>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">{10}</a></span>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"><br />{11}</a></span></p>

<p id="begin">GENTLEMEN’S BOOK OF ETIQUETTE.</p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.<br />
<span class="sub">CONVERSATION.</span></h2>

<p>One of the first rules for a guide in polite conversation,
is to avoid political or religious discussions in
general society. Such discussions lead almost invariably
to irritating differences of opinion, often to open quarrels,
and a coolness of feeling which might have been
avoided by dropping the distasteful subject as soon as
marked differences of opinion arose. It is but one out
of many that can discuss either political or religious differences,
with candor and judgment, and yet so far
control his language and temper as to avoid either giving
or taking offence.</p>

<p>In their place, in circles which have met for such discussions,
in a <i>tête à tête</i> conversation, in a small party
of gentlemen where each is ready courteously to listen
to the others, politics may be discussed with perfect propriety,
but in the drawing-room, at the dinner-table, or
in the society of ladies, these topics are best avoided.</p>

<p>If you are drawn into such a discussion without intending
to be so, be careful that your individual opinion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">{12}</a></span>
does not lead you into language and actions unbecoming
a gentleman. Listen courteously to those whose opinions
do not agree with yours, and <em>keep your temper</em>. A
man in a passion ceases to be a gentleman.</p>

<p>Even if convinced that your opponent is utterly wrong,
yield gracefully, decline further discussion, or dextrously
turn the conversation, but do not obstinately defend
your own opinion until you become angry, or more excited
than is becoming to a gentleman.</p>

<p>Many there are who, giving their opinion, not as an
<em>opinion</em> but as a <em>law</em>, will defend their position by such
phrases, as: “Well, if <em>I</em> were president, or governor, I
would,” &amp;c.&mdash;and while by the warmth of their argument
they prove that they are utterly unable to govern
their own temper, they will endeavor to persuade you
that they are perfectly competent to take charge of the
government of the nation.</p>

<p>Retain, if you will, a fixed political opinion, yet do
not parade it upon all occasions, and, above all, do not
endeavor to <em>force</em> others to agree with you. Listen
calmly to their ideas upon the same subjects, and if you
cannot agree, differ politely, and while your opponent
may set you down as a bad politician, let him be obliged
to admit that you are a <em>gentleman</em>.</p>

<p>Wit and vivacity are two highly important ingredients
in the conversation of a man in polite society, yet a
straining for effect, or forced wit, is in excessively bad
taste. There is no one more insupportable in society
than the everlasting talkers who scatter puns, witticisms,
and jokes with so profuse a hand that they become as
tiresome as a comic newspaper, and whose loud laugh at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">{13}</a></span>
their own wit drowns other voices which might speak
matter more interesting. The really witty man does
not shower forth his wit so indiscriminately; his charm
consists in wielding his powerful weapon delicately and
easily, and making each highly polished witticism come
in the right place and moment to be effectual. While
real wit is a most delightful gift, and its use a most
charming accomplishment, it is, like many other bright
weapons, dangerous to use too often. You may wound
where you meant only to amuse, and remarks which you
mean only in for general applications, may be construed
into personal affronts, so, if you have the gift, use it
wisely, and not too freely.</p>

<p>The most important requisite for a good conversational
power is education, and, by this is meant, not merely the
matter you may store in your memory from observation
or books, though this is of vast importance, but it also
includes the developing of the mental powers, and, above
all, the comprehension. An English writer says, “A
man should be able, in order to enter into conversation,
to catch rapidly the meaning of anything that is advanced;
for instance, though you know nothing of science,
you should not be obliged to stare and be silent,
when a man who does understand it is explaining a new
discovery or a new theory; though you have not read a
word of Blackstone, your comprehensive powers should
be sufficiently acute to enable you to take in the statement
that may be made of a recent cause; though you
may not have read some particular book, you should be
capable of appreciating the criticism which you hear of
it. Without such power&mdash;simple enough, and easily attained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">{14}</a></span>
by attention and practice, yet too seldom met
with in general society&mdash;a conversation which departs
from the most ordinary topics cannot be maintained
without the risk of lapsing into a lecture; with such
power, society becomes instructive as well as amusing,
and you have no remorse at an evening’s end at having
wasted three or four hours in profitless banter, or simpering
platitudes. This facility of comprehension often
startles us in some women, whose education we know to
have been poor, and whose reading is limited. If they
did not rapidly receive your ideas, they could not, therefore,
be fit companions for intellectual men, and it is,
perhaps, their consciousness of a deficiency which leads
them to pay the more attention to what you say. It is
this which makes married women so much more agreeable
to men of thought than young ladies, as a rule, can be,
for they are accustomed to the society of a husband, and
the effort to be a companion to his mind has engrafted
the habit of attention and ready reply.”</p>

<p>The same author says: “No less important is the
cultivation of taste. If it is tiresome and deadening to
be with people who cannot understand, and will not even
appear to be interested in your better thoughts, it is
almost repulsive to find a man insensible to all beauty,
and immovable by any horror.</p>

<p>“In the present day an acquaintance with art, even
if you have no love for it, is a <i>sine quâ non</i> of good
society. Music and painting are subjects which will be
discussed in every direction around you. It is only in
bad society that people go to the opera, concerts, and
art-exhibitions merely because it is the fashion, or to say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">{15}</a></span>
they have been there; and if you confessed to such a
weakness in really good society, you would be justly
voted a puppy. For this, too, some book knowledge is
indispensable. You should at least know the names of
the more celebrated artists, composers, architects, sculptors,
and so forth, and should be able to approximate
their several schools.</p>

<p>“So too, you should know pretty accurately the pronunciation
of celebrated names, or, if not, take care
not to use them. It will never do to be ignorant of the
names and approximate ages of great composers, especially
in large cities, where music is so highly appreciated
and so common a theme. It will be decidedly condemnatory
if you talk of the <em>new</em> opera ‘Don Giovanni,’
or <em>Rossini’s</em> ‘Trovatore,’ or are ignorant who composed
‘Fidelio,’ and in what opera occur such common pieces
as ‘<i>Ciascun lo dice</i>,’ or ‘<i>Il segreto</i>.’ I do not say that
these trifles are indispensable, and when a man has
better knowledge to offer, especially with genius or
‘cleverness’ to back it, he will not only be pardoned for
an ignorance of them, but can even take a high tone,
and profess indifference or contempt of them. But, at
the same time, such ignorance stamps an ordinary man,
and hinders conversation. On the other hand the best
society will not endure dilettantism, and, whatever the
knowledge a man may possess of any art, he must not
display it so as to make the ignorance of others painful
to them. But this applies to every topic. To have only
one or two subjects to converse on, and to discourse
rather than talk on them, is always ill-bred, whether the
theme be literature or horseflesh. The gentleman jockey<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">{16}</a></span>
will probably denounce the former as a ‘bore,’ and call
us pedants for dwelling on it; but if, as is too often the
case, he can give us nothing more general than the discussion
of the ‘points’ of a horse that, perhaps, we
have never seen, he is as great a pedant in his way.</p>

<p>“<em>Reason</em> plays a less conspicuous part in good society
because its frequenters are too reasonable to be mere
reasoners. A disputation is always dangerous to temper,
and tedious to those who cannot feel as eager as the disputants;
a discussion, on the other hand, in which
every body has a chance of stating amicably and unobtrusively
his or her opinion, must be of frequent occurrence.
But to cultivate the reason, besides its high
moral value, has the advantage of enabling one to reply
as well as attend to the opinions of others. Nothing is
more tedious or disheartening than a perpetual, ‘Yes,
just so,’ and nothing more. Conversation must never
be one-sided. Then, again, the reason enables us to
support a fancy or an opinion, when we are asked <em>why</em>
we think so. To reply, ‘I don’t know, but still I think
so,’ is silly and tedious.</p>

<p>“But there is a part of our education so important
and so neglected in our schools and colleges, that it cannot
be too highly impressed on the young man who proposes
to enter society. I mean that which we learn first
of all things, yet often have not learned fully when death
eases us of the necessity&mdash;the art of speaking our own
language. What can Greek and Latin, French and
German be for us in our every-day life, if we have not
acquired this? We are often encouraged to raise a
laugh at Doctor Syntax and the tyranny of Grammar,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">{17}</a></span>
but we may be certain that more misunderstandings,
and, therefore, more difficulties arise between men in the
commonest intercourse from a want of grammatical precision
than from any other cause. It was once the
fashion to neglect grammar, as it now is with certain
people to write illegibly, and, in the days of Goethe, a
man thought himself a genius if he could spell badly.</p>

<p>“Precision and accuracy must begin in the very outset;
and if we neglect them in grammar, we shall
scarcely acquire them in expressing our thoughts. But
since there is no society without interchange of thought,
and since the best society is that in which the best
thoughts are interchanged in the best and most comprehensible
manner, it follows that a proper mode of expressing
ourselves is indispensable in good society.</p>

<p>“The art of expressing one’s thoughts neatly and
suitably is one which, in the neglect of rhetoric as a
study, we must practice for ourselves. The commonest
thought well put is more useful in a social point of view,
than the most brilliant idea jumbled out. What is well
expressed is easily seized, and therefore readily responded
to; the most poetic fancy may be lost to the hearer, if
the language which conveys it is obscure. Speech is the
gift which distinguishes man from animals, and makes
society possible. He has but a poor appreciation of his
high privilege as a human being, who neglects to cultivate,
‘God’s great gift of speech.’</p>

<p>“As I am not writing for men of genius, but for
ordinary beings, I am right to state that an indispensable
part of education is a knowledge of the literature
of the English language. But <em>how</em> to read, is, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">{18}</a></span>
society more important than <em>what</em> we read. The
man who takes up nothing but a newspaper, but reads
it to <em>think</em>, to deduct conclusions from its premises, and
form a judgment on its opinions, is more fitted for society
than he, who having all the current literature and devoting
his whole time to its perusal, swallows it all without
digestion. In fact, the mind must be treated like the
body, and however great its appetite, it will soon fall
into bad health if it gorges, but does not ruminate. At
the same time an acquaintance with the best current
literature is necessary to modern society, and it is not
sufficient to have read a book without being able to pass
a judgment upon it. Conversation on literature is impossible,
when your respondent can only say, ‘Yes. I
like the book, but I really don’t know why.’</p>

<p>“An acquaintance with old English literature is not
perhaps indispensable, but it gives a man great advantage
in all kinds of society, and in some he is at a constant
loss without it. The same may be said of foreign
literature, which in the present day is almost as much
discussed as our own; but, on the other hand, an acquaintance
with home and foreign politics, with current
history, and subjects of passing interest, is absolutely
necessary; and a person of sufficient intelligence to join
in good society, cannot dispense with his daily newspaper,
his literary journal, and the principal reviews
and magazines. The cheapness of every kind of literature,
the facilities of our well stored circulating libraries,
our public reading rooms, and numerous excellent lectures
on every possible subject, leave no excuse to poor
or rich for an ignorance of any of the topics discussed in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">{19}</a></span>
intellectual society. You may forget your Latin, Greek,
French, German, and Mathematics, but if you frequent
good company, you will never be allowed to forget that
you are a citizen of the world.”</p>

<p>A man of real intelligence and cultivated mind, is
generally modest. He may feel when in every day
society, that in intellectual acquirements he is above
those around him; but he will not seek to make his companions
feel their inferiority, nor try to display this
advantage over them. He will discuss with frank simplicity
the topics started by others, and endeavor to
avoid starting such as they will not feel inclined to discuss.
All that he says will be marked by politeness
and deference to the feelings and opinions of others.</p>

<p>La Bruyere says, “The great charm of conversation
consists less in the display of one’s own wit and intelligence,
than in the power to draw forth the resources of
others; he who leaves you after a long conversation,
pleased with himself and the part he has taken in the
discourse, will be your warmest admirer. Men do not
care to admire you, they wish you to be pleased with
them; they do not seek for instruction or even amusement
from your discourse, but they do wish you to be
made acquainted with their talents and powers of conversation;
and the true man of genius will delicately
make all who come in contact with him, feel the exquisite
satisfaction of knowing that they have appeared to
advantage.”</p>

<p>Having admitted the above to be an incontestable fact,
you will also see that it is as great an accomplishment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">{20}</a></span>
to listen with an air of interest and attention, as it is to
speak well.</p>

<p>To be a good listener is as indispensable as to be a
good talker, and it is in the character of listener that
you can most readily detect the man who is accustomed
to good society. Nothing is more embarrassing to any
one who is speaking, than to perceive signs of weariness
or inattention in the person whom he addresses.</p>

<p>Never interrupt any one who is speaking; it is quite
as rude to officiously supply a name or date about which
another hesitates, unless you are asked to do so. Another
gross breach of etiquette, is to anticipate the point
of a story which another person is reciting, or to take it
from his lips to finish it in your own language. Some
persons plead as an excuse for this breach of etiquette,
that the reciter was spoiling a good story by a bad manner,
but this does not mend the matter. It is surely
rude to give a man to understand that you do not consider
him capable of finishing an anecdote that he has
commenced.</p>

<p>It is ill-bred to put on an air of weariness during a
long speech from another person, and quite as rude to
look at a watch, read a letter, flirt the leaves of a book,
or in any other action show that you are tired of the
speaker or his subject.</p>

<p>In a general conversation, never speak when another
person is speaking, and never try by raising your own
voice to drown that of another. Never assume an air
of haughtiness, or speak in a dictatorial manner; let
your conversation be always amiable and frank, free
from every affectation.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">{21}</a></span>
Put yourself on the same level as the person to whom
you speak, and under penalty of being considered a
pedantic idiot, refraining from explaining any expression
or word that you may use.</p>

<p>Never, unless you are requested to do so, speak of
your own business or profession in society; to confine
your conversation entirely to the subject or pursuit which
is your own speciality is low-bred and vulgar.</p>

<p>Make the subject for conversation suit the company
in which you are placed. Joyous, light conversation
will be at times as much out of place, as a sermon would
be at a dancing party. Let your conversation be grave
or gay as suits the time or place.</p>

<p>In a dispute, if you cannot reconcile the parties, withdraw
from them. You will surely make one enemy,
perhaps two, by taking either side, in an argument when
the speakers have lost their temper.</p>

<p>Never gesticulate in every day conversation, unless
you wish to be mistaken for a fifth rate comedian.</p>

<p>Never ask any one who is conversing with you to repeat
his words. Nothing is ruder than to say, “Pardon
me, will you repeat that sentence&mdash;I did not hear you
at first,” and thus imply that your attention was wandering
when he first spoke.</p>

<p>Never, during a general conversation, endeavor to
concentrate the attention wholly upon yourself. It is
quite as rude to enter into conversation with one of a
group, and endeavor to draw him out of the circle of
general conversation to talk with you alone.</p>

<p>Never listen to the conversation of two persons who
have thus withdrawn from a group. If they are so near<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">{22}</a></span>
you that you cannot avoid hearing them, you may, with
perfect propriety, change your seat.</p>

<p>Make your own share in conversation as modest and
brief as is consistent with the subject under consideration,
and avoid long speeches and tedious stories. If,
however, another, particularly an old man, tells a long
story, or one that is not new to you, listen respectfully
until he has finished, before you speak again.</p>

<p>Speak of yourself but little. Your friends will find
out your virtues without forcing you to tell them, and
you may feel confident that it is equally unnecessary to
expose your faults yourself.</p>

<p>If you submit to flattery, you must also submit to the
imputation of folly and self-conceit.</p>

<p>In speaking of your friends, do not compare them,
one with another. Speak of the merits of each one, but
do not try to heighten the virtues of one by contrasting
them with the vices of another.</p>

<p>No matter how absurd are the anecdotes that may be
told in your presence, you must never give any sign of
incredulity. They may be true; and even if false, good
breeding forces you to hear them with polite attention,
and the appearance of belief. To show by word or sign
any token of incredulity, is to give the lie to the narrator,
and that is an unpardonable insult.</p>

<p>Avoid, in conversation all subjects which can injure
the absent. A gentleman will never calumniate or
listen to calumny.</p>

<p>Need I say that no gentleman will ever soil his mouth
with an oath. Above all, to swear in a drawing-room
or before ladies is not only indelicate and vulgar in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">{23}</a></span>
extreme, but evinces a shocking ignorance of the rules
of polite society and good breeding.</p>

<p>For a long time the world has adopted a certain form
of speech which is used in good society, and which
changing often, is yet one of the distinctive marks of a
gentleman. A word or even a phrase which has been
used among the most refined circles, will, sometimes, by
a sudden freak of fashion, from being caricatured in a
farce or song, or from some other cause, go entirely out
of use. Nothing but habitual intercourse with people
of refinement and education, and mingling in general
society, will teach a gentleman what words to use and
what to avoid. Yet there are some words which are now
entirely out of place in a parlor.</p>

<p>Avoid a declamatory style; some men, before speaking,
will wave their hands as if commanding silence, and,
having succeeded in obtaining the attention of the company,
will speak in a tone, and style, perfectly suitable
for the theatre or lecture room, but entirely out of place
in a parlor. Such men entirely defeat the object of
society, for they resent interruption, and, as their talk
flows in a constant stream, no one else can speak without
interrupting the pompous idiot who thus endeavors to
engross the entire attention of the circle around him.</p>

<p>This character will be met with constantly, and generally
joins to the other disagreeable traits an egotism as
tiresome as it is ill-bred.</p>

<p>The wittiest man becomes tedious and ill-bred when
he endeavors to engross entirely the attention of the
company in which he should take a more modest part.</p>

<p>Avoid set phrases, and use quotations but rarely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">{24}</a></span>
They sometimes make a very piquant addition to conversation,
but when they become a constant habit, they
are exceedingly tedious, and in bad taste.</p>

<p>Avoid pedantry; it is a mark, not of intelligence, but
stupidity.</p>

<p>Speak your own language correctly; at the same time
do not be too great a stickler for formal correctness of
phrases.</p>

<p>Never notice it if others make mistakes in language.
To notice by word or look such errors in those around
you, is excessively ill-bred.</p>

<p>Vulgar language and slang, though in common, unfortunately
too common use, are unbecoming in any
one who pretends to be a gentleman. Many of the
words heard now in the parlor and drawing-room, derive
their origin from sources which a gentleman would
hesitate to mention before ladies, yet he will make daily
use of the offensive word or phrase.</p>

<p>If you are a professional or scientific man, avoid the
use of technical terms. They are in bad taste, because
many will not understand them. If, however, you unconsciously
use such a term or phrase, do not then commit
the still greater error of explaining its meaning.
No one will thank you for thus implying their ignorance.</p>

<p>In conversing with a foreigner who speaks imperfect
English, listen with strict attention, yet do not supply a
word, or phrase, if he hesitates. Above all, do not by a
word or gesture show impatience if he makes pauses or
blunders. If you understand his language, say so when
you first speak to him; this is not making a display of
your own knowledge, but is a kindness, as a foreigner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">{25}</a></span>
will be pleased to hear and speak his own language when
in a strange country.</p>

<p>Be careful in society never to play the part of buffoon,
for you will soon become known as the “funny” man of the
party, and no character is so perilous to your dignity as
a gentleman. You lay yourself open to both censure
and ridicule, and you may feel sure that, for every person
who laughs with you, two are laughing at you, and for
one who admires you, two will watch your antics with
secret contempt.</p>

<p>Avoid boasting. To speak of your money, connections,
or the luxuries at your command is in very bad
taste. It is quite as ill-bred to boast of your intimacy
with distinguished people. If their names occur naturally
in the course of conversation, it is very well; but to
be constantly quoting, “my friend, Gov. C&mdash;&mdash;,” or
“my intimate friend, the president,” is pompous and in
bad taste.</p>

<p>While refusing the part of jester yourself, do not, by
stiff manners, or cold, contemptuous looks, endeavor to
check the innocent mirth of others. It is in excessively
bad taste to drag in a grave subject of conversation
when pleasant, bantering talk is going on around you.
Join in pleasantly and forget your graver thoughts for
the time, and you will win more popularity than if you
chill the merry circle or turn their innocent gayety to
grave discussions.</p>

<p>When thrown into the society of literary people, do
not question them about their works. To speak in
terms of admiration of any work to the author is in bad
taste; but you may give pleasure, if, by a quotation from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">{26}</a></span>
their writings, or a happy reference to them, you prove
that you have read and appreciated them.</p>

<p>It is extremely rude and pedantic, when engaged in
general conversation, to make quotations in a foreign
language.</p>

<p>To use phrases which admit of a double meaning, is
ungentlemanly, and, if addressed to a lady, they become
positively insulting.</p>

<p>If you find you are becoming angry in a conversation,
either turn to another subject or keep silence. You
may utter, in the heat of passion, words which you would
never use in a calmer moment, and which you would bitterly
repent when they were once said.</p>

<p>“Never talk of ropes to a man whose father was
hanged” is a vulgar but popular proverb. Avoid carefully
subjects which may be construed into personalities,
and keep a strict reserve upon family matters. Avoid,
if you can, seeing the skeleton in your friend’s closet,
but if it is paraded for your special benefit, regard it as
a sacred confidence, and never betray your knowledge to
a third party.</p>

<p>If you have traveled, although you will endeavor to
improve your mind in such travel, do not be constantly
speaking of your journeyings. Nothing is more tiresome
than a man who commences every phrase with,
“When I was in Paris,” or, “In Italy I saw&mdash;&mdash;.”</p>

<p>When asking questions about persons who are not
known to you, in a drawing-room, avoid using adjectives;
or you may enquire of a mother, “Who is that awkward,
ugly girl?” and be answered, “Sir, that is my daughter.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">{27}</a></span>
Avoid gossip; in a woman it is detestable, but in a man
it is utterly despicable.</p>

<p>Do not officiously offer assistance or advice in general
society. Nobody will thank you for it.</p>

<p>Ridicule and practical joking are both marks of a
vulgar mind and low breeding.</p>

<p>Avoid flattery. A delicate compliment is permissible
in conversation, but flattery is broad, coarse, and to
sensible people, disgusting. If you flatter your superiors,
they will distrust you, thinking you have some selfish
end; if you flatter ladies, they will despise you, thinking
you have no other conversation.</p>

<p>A lady of sense will feel more complimented if you
converse with her upon instructive, high subjects, than
if you address to her only the language of compliment.
In the latter case she will conclude that you consider
her incapable of discussing higher subjects, and you
cannot expect her to be pleased at being considered
merely a silly, vain person, who must be flattered into
good humor.</p>

<p>Avoid the evil of giving utterance to inflated expressions
and remarks in common conversation.</p>

<p>It is a somewhat ungrateful task to tell those who would
shrink from the imputation of a falsehood that they are
in the daily habit of uttering untruths; and yet, if I
proceed, no other course than this can be taken by me.
It is of no use to adopt half measures; plain speaking
saves a deal of trouble.</p>

<p>The examples about to be given by me of exaggerated
expressions, are only a few of the many that are constantly
in use. Whether you can acquit yourselves of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">{28}</a></span>
the charge of occasionally using them, I cannot tell;
but I dare not affirm for myself that I am altogether
guiltless.</p>

<p>“I was caught in the wet last night, the rain came
down in torrents.” Most of us have been out in heavy
rains; but a torrent of water pouring down from the
skies would a little surprise us, after all.</p>

<p>“I am wet to the skin, and have not a dry thread
upon me.” Where these expressions are once used correctly,
they are used twenty times in opposition to the
truth.</p>

<p>“I tried to overtake him, but in vain; for he ran
like lightning.” The celebrated racehorse Eclipse is
said to have run a mile in a minute, but poor Eclipse is
left sadly behind by this expression.</p>

<p>“He kept me standing out in the cold so long, I
thought I should have waited for ever.” There is not
a particle of probability that such a thought could have
been for one moment entertained.</p>

<p>“As I came across the common, the wind was as
keen as a razor.” This is certainly a very keen remark,
but the worst of it is that its keenness far exceeds its
correctness.</p>

<p>“I went to the meeting, but had hard work to get in;
for the place was crowded to suffocation.” In this case,
in justice to the veracity of the relater, it is necessary to
suppose that successful means had been used for his
recovery.</p>

<p>“It must have been a fine sight; I would have given
the world to have seen it.” Fond as most of us are of
sight-seeing, this would be buying pleasure at a dear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">{29}</a></span>
price indeed; but it is an easy thing to proffer to part
with that which we do not possess.</p>

<p>“It made me quite low spirited; my heart felt as
heavy as lead.” We most of us know what a heavy
heart is; but lead is by no means the most correct metaphor
to use in speaking of a heavy heart.</p>

<p>“I could hardly find my way, for the night was as
dark as pitch.” I am afraid we have all in our turn
calumniated the sky in this manner; pitch is many
shades darker than the darkest night we have ever
known.</p>

<p>“I have told him of that fault fifty times over.” Five
times would, in all probability, be much nearer the fact
than fifty.</p>

<p>“I never closed my eyes all night long.” If this be
true, you acted unwisely; for had you closed your eyes,
you might, perhaps, have fallen asleep, and enjoyed the
blessing of refreshing slumber; if it be not true, you
acted more unwisely still, by stating that as a fact which
is altogether untrue.</p>

<p>“He is as tall as a church-spire.” I have met with
some tall fellows in my time, though the spire of a
church is somewhat taller than the tallest of them.</p>

<p>“You may buy a fish at the market as big as a jackass,
for five shillings.” I certainly have my doubts
about this matter; but if it be really true, the market
people must be jackasses indeed to sell such large fishes
for so little money.</p>

<p>“He was so fat he could hardly come in at the door.”
Most likely the difficulty here alluded to was never felt
by any one but the relater; supposing it to be otherwise,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">{30}</a></span>
the man must have been very broad or the door
very narrow.</p>

<p>“You don’t say so!&mdash;why, it was enough to kill him!”
The fact that it did not kill him is a sufficient reply to
this unfounded observation; but no remark can be too
absurd for an unbridled tongue.</p>

<p>Thus might I run on for an hour, and after all leave
much unsaid on the subject of exaggerated expressions.
We are hearing continually the comparisons, “black as
soot, white as snow, hot as fire, cold as ice, sharp as a
needle, dull as a door-nail, light as a feather, heavy as
lead, stiff as a poker, and crooked as a crab-tree,” in
cases where such expressions are quite out of order.</p>

<p>The practice of expressing ourselves in this inflated
and thoughtless way, is more mischievous than we are
aware of. It certainly leads us to sacrifice truth; to
misrepresent what we mean faithfully to describe; to
whiten our own characters, and sometimes to blacken
the reputation of a neighbor. There is an uprightness
in speech as well as in action, that we ought to strive
hard to attain. The purity of truth is sullied, and the
standard of integrity is lowered, by incorrect observations.
Let us reflect upon this matter freely and faithfully.
Let us love truth, follow truth, and practice truth
in our thoughts, our words, and our deeds.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">{31}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.<br />
<span class="sub">POLITENESS.</span></h2>

<p>Real politeness is the outward expression of the most
generous impulses of the heart. It enforces unselfishness,
benevolence, kindness, and the golden rule, “Do
unto others as you would others should do unto you.”
Thus its first principle is love for the neighbor, loving
him as yourself.</p>

<p>When in society it would often be exceedingly difficult
to decide how to treat those who are personally disagreeable
to us, if it were not for the rules of politeness,
and the little formalities and points of etiquette which
these rules enforce. These evidences of polite breeding
do not prove hypocrisy, as you may treat your most bitter
enemy with perfect courtesy, and yet make no protestations
of friendship.</p>

<p>If politeness is but a mask, as many philosophers tell
us, it is a mask which will win love and admiration, and
is better worn than cast aside. If you wear it with the
sincere desire to give pleasure to others, and make all
the little meetings of life pass off smoothly and agreeably,
it will soon cease to be a mask, but you will find
that the manner which you at first put on to give pleasure,
has become natural to you, and wherever you have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">{32}</a></span>
assumed a virtue to please others, you will find the virtue
becoming habitual and finally natural, and part of
yourself.</p>

<p>Do not look upon the rules of etiquette as deceptions.
They are just as often vehicles for the expression of
sincere feeling, as they are the mask to conceal a want
of it.</p>

<p>You will in society meet with men who rail against
politeness, and call it deceit and hypocrisy. Watch
these men when they have an object to gain, or are desirous
of making a favorable impression, and see them
tacitly, but unconsciously, admit the power of courtesy,
by dropping for the time, their uncouth ways, to affect
the politeness, they oftentimes do not feel.</p>

<p>Pass over the defects of others, be prudent, discreet,
at the proper time reserved, yet at other times frank,
and treat others with the same gentle courtesy you
would wish extended to yourself.</p>

<p>True politeness never embarrasses any one, because
its first object is to put all at their ease, while it leaves
to all perfect freedom of action. You must meet rudeness
from others by perfect politeness and polish of
manner on your own part, and you will thus shame
those who have been uncivil to you. You will more
readily make them blush by your courtesy, than if you
met their rudeness by ill manners on your own part.</p>

<p>While a favor may be doubled in value, by a frankly
courteous manner of granting it, a refusal will lose half
its bitterness if your manner shows polite regret at your
inability to oblige him who asks the favor at your hand.</p>

<p>Politeness may be extended to the lowest and meanest,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">{33}</a></span>
and you will never by thus extending it detract
from your own dignity. A <em>gentleman</em> may and will
treat his washerwoman with respect and courtesy, and
his boot-black with pleasant affability, yet preserve perfectly
his own position. To really merit the name of a
polite, finished gentleman, you must be polite at all times
and under all circumstances.</p>

<p>There is a difference between politeness and etiquette.
Real politeness is in-born, and may exist in the savage,
while etiquette is the outward expression of politeness
reduced to the rules current in good society.</p>

<p>A man may be polite, really so in heart, yet show in
every movement an ignorance of the rules of etiquette,
and offend against the laws of society. You may find
him with his elbows upon the table, or tilting his chair
in a parlor. You may see him commit every hour gross
breaches of etiquette, yet you will never hear him intentionally
utter one word to wound another, you will see
that he habitually endeavors to make others comfortable,
choosing for them the easiest seats, or the daintiest
dishes, and putting self entirely aside to contribute to
the pleasure of all around him. Such a man will learn,
by contact with refined society, that his ignorance of the
rules which govern it, make him, at times, disagreeable,
and from the same unselfish motive which prompts him
to make a sacrifice of comfort for the sake of others, he
will watch and learn quickly, almost by instinct, where he
offends against good breeding, drop one by one his errors
in etiquette, and become truly a gentleman.</p>

<p>On the other hand, you will meet constantly, in the
best society, men whose polish of manner is exquisite,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">{34}</a></span>
who will perform to the minutest point the niceties of
good breeding, who never commit the least act that is
forbidden by the strictest rules of etiquette; yet under
all this mask of chivalry, gallantry, and politeness will
carry a cold, selfish heart; will, with a sweet smile,
graceful bow, and elegant language, wound deeply the
feelings of others, and while passing in society for models
of courtesy and elegance of manner, be in feeling as
cruel and barbarous as the veriest savage.</p>

<p>So I would say to you, Cultivate your heart. Cherish
there the Christian graces, love for the neighbor, unselfishness,
charity, and gentleness, and you will be truly
a gentleman; add to these the graceful forms of etiquette,
and you then become a <em>perfect</em> gentleman.</p>

<p>Etiquette exists in every corner of the known world,
from the savages in the wilds of Africa, who dare not,
upon penalty of death, approach their barbarous rulers
without certain forms and ceremonies, to the most refined
circles of Europe, where gentle chivalry and a cultivated
mind suggest its rules. It has existed in all ages, and
the stringency of its laws in some countries has given
rise to both ludicrous and tragic incidents.</p>

<p>In countries where royalty rules the etiquette, it often
happens that pride will blind those who make the rules,
and the results are often fatal. Believing that the same
deference which their rank authorized them to demand,
was also due to them as individuals, the result of such
an idea was an etiquette as vain and useless as it was
absurd.</p>

<p>For an example I will give an anecdote:</p>

<p>“The kings of Spain, the proudest and vainest of all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">{35}</a></span>
kings of the earth, made a rule of etiquette as stupid as
it was useless. It was a fault punishable by death to
touch the foot of the queen, and the individual who thus
offended, no matter under what circumstances, was executed
immediately.</p>

<p>“A young queen of Spain, wife of Charles the Second,
was riding on horseback in the midst of her attendants.
Suddenly the horse reared and threw the queen from the
saddle. Her foot remained in the stirrup, and she was
dragged along the ground. An immense crowd stood
looking at this spectacle, but no one dared, for his life,
to attempt to rescue the poor woman. She would have
died, had not two young French officers, ignorant of the
stupid law which paralyzed the Spaniards, sprung forward
and saved her. One stopped the horse, and whilst
he held the bridle, his companion disengaged from its
painful position the foot of the young queen, who was,
by this time, insensible from fear and the bruises which
she had already received. They were instantly arrested,
and while the queen was carried on a litter to the palace,
her young champions were marched off, accompanied by
a strong guard, to prison. The next day, sick and feeble,
the queen was obliged to leave her bed, and on her
knees before the king, plead for the pardon of the two
Frenchmen; and her prayer was only granted upon condition
that the audacious foreigners left Spain immediately.”</p>

<p>There is no country in the world where the absurdities
of etiquette are carried to so great a length as in Spain,
because there is no nation where the nobility are so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">{36}</a></span>
proud. The following anecdote, which illustrates this,
would seem incredible were it not a historical fact:</p>

<p>“Philip the Third, king of Spain, was sick, and being
able to sit up, was carefully placed in an arm chair which
stood opposite to a large fire, when the wood was piled
up to an enormous height. The heat soon became intolerable,
and the courtiers retired from around the king;
but, as the Duke D’Ussede, the fire stirrer for the king,
was not present, and as no one else had the right to
touch the fire, those present dared not attempt to diminish
the heat. The grand chamberlain was also absent, and
he alone was authorized to touch the king’s footstool.
The poor king, too ill to rise, in vain implored those
around him to move his chair, no one dared touch it, and
when the grand chamberlain arrived, the king had fainted
with the heat, and a few days later he died, literally
roasted to death.”</p>

<p>At almost all times, and in almost all places, good
breeding may be shown; and we think a good service
will be done by pointing out a few plain and simple instances
in which it stands opposed to habits and manners,
which, though improper and disagreeable, are not very
uncommon.</p>

<p>In the familiar intercourse of society, a well-bred <em>man</em>
will be known by the delicacy and deference with which
he behaves towards females. That man would deservedly
be looked upon as very deficient in proper respect and
feeling, who should take any physical advantage of one
of the weaker sex, or offer any personal slight towards
her. Woman looks, and properly looks, for protection
to man. It is the province of the husband to shield the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">{37}</a></span>
wife from injury; of the father to protect the daughter;
the brother has the same duty to perform towards the
sister; and, in general, every man should, in this sense,
be the champion and the lover of every woman. Not
only should he be ready to protect, but desirous to please,
and willing to sacrifice much of his own personal ease
and comfort, if, by doing so, he can increase those of
any female in whose company he may find himself. Putting
these principles into practice, a well-bred man, in
his own house, will be kind and respectful in his behaviour
to every female of the family. He will not use
towards them harsh language, even if called upon to express
dissatisfaction with their conduct. In conversation,
he will abstain from every allusion which would put
modesty to the blush. He will, as much as in his power,
lighten their labors by cheerful and voluntary assistance.
He will yield to them every little advantage which may
occur in the regular routine of domestic life:&mdash;the most
comfortable seat, if there be a difference; the warmest
position by the winter’s fireside; the nicest slice from the
family joint, and so on.</p>

<p>In a public assembly of any kind, a well-bred man
will pay regard to the feelings and wishes of the females
by whom he is surrounded. He will not secure the best
seat for himself, and leave the women folk to take care
of themselves. He will not be seated at all, if the meeting
be crowded, and a single female appear unaccommodated.</p>

<p>Good breeding will keep a person from making loud
and startling noises, from pushing past another in entering
or going out of a room; from ostentatiously using a pocket-handkerchief;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">{38}</a></span>
from hawking and spitting in company;
from fidgeting any part of the body; from scratching
the head, or picking the teeth with fork or with finger.
In short, it will direct all who study its rules to abstain
from every personal act which may give pain or offence
to another’s feelings. At the same time, it will enable
them to bear much without taking offence. It will teach
them when to speak and when to be silent, and how to
behave with due respect to all. By attention to the
rules of good breeding, and more especially to its leading
principles, “the poorest man will be entitled to the character
of a gentleman, and by inattention to them, the
most wealthy person will be essentially vulgar. Vulgarity
signifies coarseness or indelicacy of manner, and
is not necessarily associated with poverty or lowliness of
condition. Thus an operative artizan may be a gentleman,
and worthy of our particular esteem; while an
opulent merchant may be only a vulgar clown, with
whom it is impossible to be on terms of friendly intercourse.”</p>

<p>The following remarks upon the “Character of a Gentleman”
by Brooke are so admirable that I need make
no apology for quoting them entire. He says; “There
is no term, in our language, more common than that of
‘Gentleman;’ and, whenever it is heard, all agree in
the general idea of a man some way elevated above the
vulgar. Yet, perhaps, no two living are precisely agreed
respecting the qualities they think requisite for constituting
this character. When we hear the epithets of a
‘fine Gentleman,’ ‘a pretty Gentleman,’ ‘much of a
Gentleman,’ ‘Gentlemanlike,’ ‘something of a Gentleman,’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">{39}</a></span>
‘nothing of a Gentleman,’ and so forth; all these
different appellations must intend a peculiarity annexed
to the ideas of those who express them; though no two
of them, as I said, may agree in the constituent qualities
of the character they have formed in their own mind.
There have been ladies who deemed fashionable dress a
very capital ingredient in the composition of&mdash;a Gentleman.
A certain easy impudence acquired by low people,
by casually being conversant in high life, has passed
a man current through many companies for&mdash;a Gentleman.
In taverns and brothels, he who is the most of a
bully is the most of&mdash;a Gentleman. And the highwayman,
in his manner of taking your purse, may however
be allowed to have&mdash;much of the Gentleman. Plato,
among the philosophers, was ‘the most of a man of
fashion;’ and therefore allowed, at the court of Syracuse,
to be&mdash;the most of a Gentleman. But seriously, I apprehend
that this character is pretty much upon the
modern. In all ancient or dead languages we have no
term, any way adequate, whereby we may express it.
In the habits, manners, and characters of old Sparta
and old Rome, we find an antipathy to all the elements
of modern gentility. Among these rude and unpolished
people, you read of philosophers, of orators, of patriots,
heroes, and demigods; but you never hear of any character
so elegant as that of&mdash;a pretty Gentleman.</p>

<p>“When those nations, however, became refined into
what their ancestors would have called corruption; when
luxury introduced, and fashion gave a sanction to certain
sciences, which Cynics would have branded with the
ill mannered appellations of drunkenness, gambling,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">{40}</a></span>
cheating, lying, &amp;c.; the practitioners assumed the new
title of Gentlemen, till such Gentlemen became as plenteous
as stars in the milky-way, and lost distinction
merely by the confluence of their lustre. Wherefore as
the said qualities were found to be of ready acquisition,
and of easy descent to the populace from their betters,
ambition judged it necessary to add further marks and
criterions for severing the general herd from the nobler
species&mdash;of Gentlemen.</p>

<p>“Accordingly, if the commonalty were observed to
have a propensity to religion, their superiors affected a
disdain of such vulgar prejudices; and a freedom that
cast off the restraints of morality, and a courage that
spurned at the fear of a God, were accounted the distinguishing
characteristics&mdash;of a Gentleman.</p>

<p>“If the populace, as in China, were industrious and
ingenious, the grandees, by the length of their nails and
the cramping of their limbs, gave evidence that true dignity
was above labor and utility, and that to be born to
no end was the prerogative&mdash;of a Gentleman.</p>

<p>“If the common sort, by their conduct, declared a
respect for the institutions of civil society and good government;
their betters despised such pusillanimous conformity,
and the magistrates paid becoming regard to
the distinction, and allowed of the superior liberties and
privileges&mdash;of a Gentleman.</p>

<p>“If the lower set show a sense of common honesty
and common order; those who would figure in the world,
think it incumbent to demonstrate that complaisance to
inferiors, common manners, common equity, or any thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">{41}</a></span>
common, is quite beneath the attention or sphere&mdash;of a
Gentleman.</p>

<p>“Now, as underlings are ever ambitious of imitating
and usurping the manners of their superiors; and as this
state of mortality is incident to perpetual change and
revolution, it may happen, that when the populace, by
encroaching on the province of gentility, have arrived to
their <i>ne plus ultra</i> of insolence, irreligion, &amp;c.; the gentry,
in order to be again distinguished, may assume the
station that their inferiors had forsaken, and, however
ridiculous the supposition may appear at present, humanity,
equity, utility, complaisance, and piety, may in
time come to be the distinguishing characteristics&mdash;of a
Gentleman.</p>

<p>“It appears that the most general idea which people
have formed of a Gentleman, is that of a person of fortune
above the vulgar, and embellished by manners that
are fashionable in high life. In this case, fortune and
fashion are the two constituent ingredients in the composition
of modern Gentlemen; for whatever the fashion
may be, whether moral or immoral, for or against reason,
right or wrong, it is equally the duty of a Gentleman to
conform. And yet I apprehend, that true gentility is
altogether independent of fortune or fashion, of time,
customs, or opinions of any kind. The very same qualities
that constituted a gentleman, in the first age of the
world, are permanently, invariably, and indispensably
necessary to the constitution of the same character to
the end of time.</p>

<p>“Hector was the finest gentleman of whom we read in
history, and Don Quixote the finest gentleman we read<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">{42}</a></span>
of in romance; as was instanced from the tenor of their
principles and actions.</p>

<p>“Some time after the battle of Cressy, Edward the
Third of England, and Edward the Black Prince, the
more than heir of his father’s renown, pressed John King
of France to indulge them with the pleasure of his company
at London. John was desirous of embracing the
invitation, and accordingly laid the proposal before his
parliament at Paris. The parliament objected, that the
invitation had been made with an insidious design of
seizing his person, thereby to make the cheaper and
easier acquisition of the crown, to which Edward at that
time pretended. But John replied, with some warmth,
that he was confident his brother Edward, and more
especially his young cousin, were too much of the <em class="ucsmcap">GENTLEMAN</em>,
to treat him in that manner. He did not say
too much of the king, of the hero, or of the saint, but
too much of the <em class="ucsmcap">GENTLEMAN</em> to be guilty of any baseness.</p>

<p>“The sequel verified this opinion. At the battle of
Poictiers King John was made prisoner, and soon after
conducted by the Black Prince to England. The prince
entered London in triumph, amid the throng and acclamations
of millions of the people. But then this rather
appeared to be the triumph of the French king than
that of his conqueror. John was seated on a proud
steed, royally robed, and attended by a numerous and
gorgeous train of the British nobility; while his conqueror
endeavored, as much as possible, to disappear,
and rode by his side in plain attire, and degradingly
seated on a little Irish hobby.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">{43}</a></span>
“As Aristotle and the Critics derived their rules for
epic poetry and the sublime from a poem which Homer
had written long before the rules were formed, or laws
established for the purpose: thus, from the demeanor
and innate principles of particular gentlemen, art has
borrowed and instituted the many modes of behaviour,
which the world has adopted, under the title of good
manners.</p>

<p>“One quality of a gentleman is that of charity to the
poor; and this is delicately instanced in the account
which Don Quixote gives, to his fast friend Sancho Pancha,
of the valorous but yet more pious knight-errant
Saint Martin. On a day, said the Don, Saint Martin
met a poor man half naked, and taking his cloak from
his shoulders, he divided, and gave him the one half.
Now, tell me at what time of the year this happened.
Was I a witness? quoth, Sancho; how the vengeance
should I know in what year or what time of the year it
happened? Hadst thou Sancho, rejoined the knight,
anything within thee of the sentiment of Saint Martin,
thou must assuredly have known that this happened in
winter; for, had it been summer, Saint Martin would
had given the whole cloak.</p>

<p>“Another characteristic of the true gentleman, is a
delicacy of behaviour toward that sex whom nature has
entitled to the protection, and consequently entitled to
the tenderness, of man.</p>

<p>“The same gentleman-errant, entering into a wood
on a summer’s evening, found himself entangled among
nets of green thread that, here and there, hung from
tree to tree; and conceiving it some matter of purposed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">{44}</a></span>
conjuration, pushed valorously forward to break through
the enchantment. Hereupon some beautiful shepherdesses
interposed with a cry, and besought him to spare
the implements of their innocent recreation. The knight,
surprised and charmed by the vision, replied,&mdash;Fair
creatures! my province is to protect, not to injure; to
seek all means of service, but never of offence, more especially
to any of your sex and apparent excellences.
Your pretty nets take up but a small piece of favored
ground; but, did they inclose the world, I would seek
out new worlds, whereby I might win a passage, rather
than break them.</p>

<p>“Two very lovely but shamefaced girls had a cause,
of some consequence, depending at Westminster, that
indispensably required their personal appearance. They
were relations of Sir Joseph Jeckel, and, on this tremendous
occasion, requested his company and countenance
at the court. Sir Joseph attended accordingly;
and the cause being opened, the judge demanded whether
he was to entitle those ladies by the denomination of
spinsters. ‘No, my Lord,’ said Sir Joseph; ‘they are lilies
of the valley, they toil not, neither do they spin, yet
you see that no monarch, in all his glory, was ever arrayed
like one of these.’</p>

<p>“Another very peculiar characteristic of a gentleman
is, the giving place and yielding to all with whom he has
to do. Of this we have a shining and affecting instance
in Abraham, perhaps the most accomplished character
that may be found in history, whether sacred or profane.
A contention had arisen between the herdsmen of Abraham
and the herdsmen of his nephew, Lot, respecting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">{45}</a></span>
the propriety of the pasture of the lands wherein they
dwelled, that could now scarce contain the abundance of
their cattle. And those servants, as is universally the
case, had respectively endeavored to kindle and inflame
their masters with their own passions. When Abraham,
in consequence of this, perceived that the countenance
of Lot began to change toward him, he called, and generously
expostulated with him as followeth: ‘Let there
be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, or between
my herdsmen and thy herdsmen; for we be
brethren. If it be thy desire to separate thyself from
me, is not the whole land before thee? If thou wilt
take the left hand, then will I go to the right; or if
thou depart to the right hand, then I will go to the left.’</p>

<p>“Another capital quality of the true gentleman is,
that of feeling himself concerned and interested in
others. Never was there so benevolent, so affecting, so
pathetic a piece of oratory exhibited upon earth, as that
of Abraham’s pleading with God for averting the judgments
that then impended over Sodom. But the matter
is already so generally celebrated, that I am constrained
to refer my reader to the passage at full; since the
smallest abridgment must deduct from its beauties, and
that nothing can be added to the excellences thereof.</p>

<p>“Honor, again, is said, in Scripture, peculiarly to
distinguish the character of a gentleman; where it is
written of Sechem, the son of Hamor, ‘that he was
more honorable than all the house of his father.’</p>

<p>“From hence it may be inferred, that human excellence,
or human amiableness, doth not so much consist
in a freedom from frailty as in our recovery from lapses,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">{46}</a></span>
our detestation of our own transgressions, and our desire
of atoning, by all possible means, the injuries we
have done, and the offences we have given. Herein,
therefore, may consist the very singular distinction which
the great apostle makes between his estimation of a just
and of a good man. ‘For a just or righteous man,’ says
he, ‘one would grudge to die; but for a good man one
would even dare to die.’ Here the just man is supposed
to adhere strictly to the rule of right or equity, and to
exact from others the same measure that he is satisfied
to mete; but the good man, though occasionally he may
fall short of justice, has, properly speaking, no measure
to his benevolence, his general propensity is to give more
than the due. The just man condemns, and is desirous
of punishing the transgressors of the line prescribed to
himself; but the good man, in the sense of his own falls
and failings, gives latitude, indulgence, and pardon to
others; he judges, he condemns no one save himself.
The just man is a stream that deviates not to the right
or left from its appointed channel, neither is swelled by
the flood of passion above its banks; but the heart of
the good man, the man of honor, the gentleman, is as a
lamp lighted by the breath of <em class="smcap">God</em>, and none save <em class="smcap">God</em>
himself can set limits to the efflux or irradiations thereof.</p>

<p>“Again, the gentleman never envies any superior excellence,
but grows himself more excellent, by being the
admirer, promoter, and lover thereof. Saul said to his
son Jonathan, ‘Thou son of the perverse, rebellious
woman, do not I know that thou hast chosen the son of
Jesse to thine own confusion? For as long as the son
of Jesse liveth upon the ground, thou shalt not be established,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">{47}</a></span>
nor thy kingdom; wherefore send and fetch
him unto me, for he shall surely die.’ Here every interesting
motive that can possibly be conceived to have
an influence on man, united to urge Jonathan to the destruction
of David; he would thereby have obeyed his
king, and pacified a father who was enraged against him.
He would thereby have removed the only luminary that
then eclipsed the brightness of his own achievements.
And he saw, as his father said, that the death of David
alone could establish the kingdom in himself and his
posterity. But all those considerations were of no avail
to make Jonathan swerve from honor, to slacken the
bands of his faith, or cool the warmth of his friendship.
O Jonathan! the sacrifice which thou then madest to
virtue, was incomparably more illustrious in the sight of
God and his angels than all the subsequent glories to
which David attained. What a crown was thine, ‘Jonathan,
when thou wast slain in thy high places!’</p>

<p>“Saul of Tarsus had been a man of bigotry, blood,
and violence; making havoc, and breathing out threatenings
and slaughter, against all who were not of his
own sect and persuasion. But, when the spirit of that
<em class="smcap">Infant</em>, who laid himself in the manger of human flesh,
came upon him, he acquired a new heart and a new nature;
and he offered himself a willing subject to all the
sufferings and persecutions which he had brought upon
others.</p>

<p>“Saul from that time, exemplified in his own person,
all those qualities of the gentleman, which he afterwards
specifies in his celebrated description of that
charity, which, as he says, alone endureth forever.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">{48}</a></span>
When Festus cried with a loud voice, ‘Paul, thou art
beside thyself, much learning doth make thee mad;’
Paul stretched the hand, and answered, ‘I am not mad,
most noble Festus, but speak forth the words of truth
and soberness. For the king knoweth of these things,
before whom also I speak freely; for I am persuaded
that none of these things are hidden from him. King
Agrippa, believest thou the prophets? I know that thou
believest.’ Then Agrippa said unto Paul, ‘Almost thou
persuadest me to be a Christian.’ And Paul said, ‘I
would to God that not only thou, but also all that hear
me this day, were not only almost but altogether such as
I am,&mdash;except these bonds.’ Here, with what an inimitable
elegance did this man, in his own person, at once
sum up the orator, the saint, and the gentleman!</p>

<p>“From these instances, my friend, you must have
seen that the character, or rather quality of a <em class="ucsmcap">GENTLEMAN</em>,
does not, in any degree, depend on fashion or
mode, on station or opinion; neither changes with customs,
climate, or ages. But, as the Spirit of God can
alone inspire it into man, so it is, as God is the same,
yesterday, to-day, and forever.”</p>

<p>In concluding this chapter I would say:</p>

<p>“In the common actions and transactions of life,
there is a wide distinction between the well-bred and the
ill-bred. If a person of the latter sort be in a superior
condition in life, his conduct towards those below him,
or dependent upon him, is marked by haughtiness, or by
unmannerly condescension. In the company of his
equals in station and circumstances, an ill-bred man is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">{49}</a></span>
either captious and quarrelsome, or offensively familiar.
He does not consider that:</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">‘The man who hails you Tom or Jack,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And proves, by thumps upon your back,<br /></span>
<span class="i1">How he esteems your merit,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Is such a friend, that one had need<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Be very much a friend indeed,<br /></span>
<span class="i1">To pardon or to bear it.’<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>“And if a man void of good breeding have to transact
business with a superior in wealth or situation, it is more
than likely that he will be needlessly humble, unintentionally
insolent, or, at any rate, miserably embarrassed.
On the contrary, a well-bred person will instinctively
avoid all these errors. ‘To inferiors, he will speak
kindly and considerately, so as to relieve them from any
feeling of being beneath him in circumstances. To
equals, he will be plain, unaffected, and courteous. To
superiors, he will know how to show becoming respect,
without descending to subserviency or meanness. In
short, he will act a manly, inoffensive, and agreeable
part, in all the situations in life in which he may be
placed.’”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">{50}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.<br />
<span class="sub">TABLE ETIQUETTE.</span></h2>

<p>It may seem a very simple thing to eat your meals,
yet there is no occasion upon which the gentleman, and
the low-bred, vulgar man are more strongly contrasted,
than when at the table. The rules I shall give for table
etiquette when in company will apply equally well for
the home circle, with the exception of some few points,
readily discernible, which may be omitted at your own
table.</p>

<p>A well-bred man, receiving an invitation to dine with
a friend should reply to it immediately, whether he accepts
or declines it.</p>

<p>He should be punctual to the hour named in the invitation,
five or ten minutes earlier if convenient, but not
one instant later. He must never, unless he has previously
asked permission to do so, take with him any friend not
named in his invitation. His host and hostess have the
privilege of inviting whom they will, and it is an impertinence
to force them to extend their hospitality, as they
must do if you introduce a friend at their own house.</p>

<p>Speak, on entering the parlor of your friend, first to
the hostess, then to the host.</p>

<p>When dinner is announced, the host or hostess will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">{51}</a></span>
give the signal for leaving the drawing-room, and you
will probably be requested to escort one of the ladies to
the table. Offer to her your left arm, and at the table
wait until she is seated, indeed wait until every lady is
seated, before taking your own place.</p>

<p>In leaving the parlor you will pass out first, and the
lady will follow you, still holding your arm. At the
door of the dining-room, the lady will drop your arm.
Pass in, then wait on one side of the entrance till she
passes you, to her place at the table.</p>

<p>If there are no ladies, you may go to the table with
any gentleman who stands near you, or with whom you
may be conversing when dinner is announced. If your
companion is older than yourself, extend to him the
same courtesy which you would use towards a lady.</p>

<p>There are a thousand little points to be observed in
your conduct at table which, while they are not absolutely
necessary, are yet distinctive marks of a well-bred
man.</p>

<p>If, when at home, you practice habitually the courtesies
of the table, they will sit upon you easily when
abroad; but if you neglect them at home, you will use
them awkwardly when in company, and you will find
yourself recognized as a man who has “company manners,”
only when abroad.</p>

<p>I have seen men who eat soup, or chewed their food,
in so noisy a manner as to be heard from one end of the
table to the other; fill their mouths so full of food, as to
threaten suffocation or choking; use their own knife for
the butter, and salt; put their fingers in the sugar bowl;
and commit other faults quite as monstrous, yet seem<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">{52}</a></span>
perfectly unconscious that they were doing anything to
attract attention.</p>

<p>Try to sit easily and gracefully, but at the same time
avoid crowding those beside you.</p>

<p>Far from eating with avidity of whatever delicacies
which may be upon the table, and which are often served
in small quantities, partake of them but sparingly, and
decline them when offered the second time.</p>

<p>Many men at their own table have little peculiar notions,
which a guest does well to respect. Some will
feel hurt, even offended, if you decline a dish which they
recommend; while others expect you to eat enormously,
as if they feared you did not appreciate their hospitality
unless you tasted of every dish upon the table. Try to
pay respect to such whims at the table of others, but
avoid having any such notions when presiding over your
own board.</p>

<p>Observe a strict sobriety; never drink of more than
one kind of wine, and partake of that sparingly.</p>

<p>The style of serving dinner is different at different
houses; if there are many servants they will bring you
your plate filled, and you must keep it. If you have
the care of a lady, see that she has what she desires,
before you give your own order to the waiter; but if
there are but few domestics, and the dishes are upon the
table, you may with perfect propriety help those near
you, from any dish within your reach.</p>

<p>If your host or hostess passes you a plate, keep it,
especially if you have chosen the food upon it, for others
have also a choice, and by passing it, you may give your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">{53}</a></span>
neighbor dishes distasteful to him, and take yourself
those which he would much prefer.</p>

<p>If in the leaves of your salad, or in a plate of fruit
you find a worm or insect, pass your plate to the waiter,
without any comment, and he will bring you another.</p>

<p>Be careful to avoid the extremes of gluttony or over
daintiness at table. To eat enormously is disgusting;
but if you eat too sparingly, your host may think that
you despise his fare.</p>

<p>Watch that the lady whom you escorted to the table
is well helped. Lift and change her plate for her, pass
her bread, salt, and butter, give her orders to the waiter,
and pay her every attention in your power.</p>

<p>Before taking your place at table, wait until your
place is pointed out to you, unless there are cards bearing
the names of the guests upon the plates; in the latter
case, take the place thus marked for you.</p>

<p>Put your napkin upon your lap, covering your knees.
It is out of date, and now looked upon as a vulgar habit
to put your napkin up over your breast.</p>

<p>Sit neither too near nor too far from the table. Never
hitch up your coat-sleeves or wristbands as if you were
going to wash your hands. Some men do this habitually,
but it is a sign of very bad breeding.</p>

<p>Never tip your chair, or lounge back in it during
dinner.</p>

<p>All gesticulations are out of place, and in bad taste at
the table. Avoid making them.</p>

<p>Converse in a low tone to your neighbor, yet not with
any air of secresy if others are engaged in <i>tête-à-tête</i>
conversation; if, however, the conversation is general,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">{54}</a></span>
avoid conversing <i>tête-à-tête</i>. Do not raise your voice
too much; if you cannot make those at some distance
from you hear you when speaking in a moderate tone,
confine your remarks to those near you.</p>

<p>If you wish for a knife, plate, or anything from the
side table, never address those in attendance as “Waiter!”
as you would at a hotel or <i>restaurant</i>, but call one of
them by name; if you cannot do this, make him a sign
without speaking.</p>

<p>Unless you are requested to do so, never select any
particular part of a dish; but, if your host asks you
what part you prefer, name some part, as in this case the
incivility would consist in making your host choose as
well as carve for you.</p>

<p>Never blow your soup if it is too hot, but wait until
it cools. Never raise your plate to your lips, but eat
with your spoon.</p>

<p>Never touch either your knife or your fork until after
you have finished eating your soup. Leave your spoon
in your soup plate, that the servant may remove them
both. Never take soup twice.</p>

<p>In changing your plate, or passing it during dinner,
remove your knife and fork, that the plate <em>alone</em> may be
taken, but after you have finished your dinner, cross the
knife and fork on the plate, that the servant may take
all away, before bringing you clean ones for dessert.</p>

<p>Do not bite your bread from the roll or slice, nor cut
it with your knife; break off small pieces and put these
in your mouth with your fingers.</p>

<p>At dinner do not put butter on your bread. Never
dip a piece of bread into the gravy or preserves upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">{55}</a></span>
your plate and then bite it, but if you wish to eat them
together, break the bread into small pieces, and carry
these to your mouth with your fork.</p>

<p>Use always the salt-spoon, sugar-tongs, and butter
knife; to use your own knife, spoon, or fingers, evinces
a shocking want of good-breeding.</p>

<p>Never criticize any dish before you.</p>

<p>If a dish is distasteful to you, decline it, but make no
remarks about it. It is sickening and disgusting to explain
at a table how one article makes you sick, or why
some other dish has become distasteful to you. I have
seen a well-dressed tempting dish go from a table untouched,
because one of the company told a most disgusting
anecdote about finding vermin served in a similar dish.
No wit in the narration can excuse so palpably an error
of politeness.</p>

<p>Never put bones, or the seeds of fruit upon the tablecloth.
Put them upon the edge of your plate.</p>

<p>Never use your knife for any purpose but to <em>cut</em> your
food. It is not meant to be put in your mouth. Your
fork is intended to carry the food from your plate to
your mouth, and no gentleman ever eats with his knife.</p>

<p>If the meat or fish upon your plate is too rare or too
well-done, do not eat it; give for an excuse that you
prefer some other dish before you; but never tell your
host that his cook has made the dish uneatable.</p>

<p>Never speak when you have anything in your mouth.
Never pile the food on your plate as if you were starving,
but take a little at a time; the dishes will not run
away.</p>

<p>Never use your own knife and fork to help either<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">{56}</a></span>
yourself or others. There is always one before the dish
at every well-served table, and you should use that.</p>

<p>It is a good plan to accustom yourself to using your
fork with the left hand, when eating, as you thus avoid
the awkwardness of constantly passing the fork from your
left hand to your right, and back again, when cutting
your food and eating it.</p>

<p>Never put fruit or bon-bons in your pocket to carry
them from the table.</p>

<p>Do not cut fruit with a steel knife. Use a silver
one.</p>

<p>Never eat so fast as to hurry the others at the table,
nor so slowly as to keep them waiting.</p>

<p>If you do not take wine, never keep the bottle standing
before you, but pass it on. If you do take it, pass
it on as soon as you have filled your glass.</p>

<p>If you wish to remove a fish bone or fruit seed from
your mouth, cover your lips with your hand or napkin,
that others may not see you remove it.</p>

<p>If you wish to use your handkerchief, and have not
time to leave the table, turn your head away, and as
quickly as possible put the handkerchief in your pocket
again.</p>

<p>Always wipe your mouth before drinking, as nothing
is more ill-bred than to grease your glass with your
lips.</p>

<p>If you are invited to drink with a friend, and do not
drink wine, bow, raise your glass of water and drink
with him.</p>

<p>Do not propose to take wine with your host; it is his
privilege to invite you.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">{57}</a></span>
Do not put your glass upside down on the table to
signify that you do not wish to drink any more; it is
sufficient to refuse firmly. Do not be persuaded to touch
another drop of wine after your own prudence warns
you that you have taken enough.</p>

<p>Avoid any air of mystery when speaking to those
next you; it is ill-bred and in excessively bad taste.</p>

<p>If you wish to speak of any one, or to any one at the
table, call them by name, but never point or make a
signal when at table.</p>

<p>When taking coffee, never pour it into your saucer,
but let it cool in the cup, and drink from that.</p>

<p>If at a gentleman’s party, never ask any one to sing
or tell a story; your host alone has the right thus to call
upon his guests.</p>

<p>If invited yourself to sing, and you feel sufficiently
sure that you will give pleasure, comply immediately with
the request.</p>

<p>If, however, you refuse, remain firm in your refusal,
as to yield after once refusing is a breach of etiquette.</p>

<p>When the finger-glasses are passed, dip your fingers
into them and then wipe them upon your napkin.</p>

<p>Never leave the table till the mistress of the house
gives the signal.</p>

<p>On leaving the table put your napkin on the table,
but do not fold it.</p>

<p>Offer your arm to the lady whom you escorted to the
table.</p>

<p>It is excessively rude to leave the house as soon as
dinner is over. Respect to your hostess obliges you to
stay in the drawing-room at least an hour.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">{58}</a></span>
If the ladies withdraw, leaving the gentlemen, after
dinner, rise when they leave the table, and remain
standing until they have left the room.</p>

<p>I give, from a recent English work, some humorously
written directions for table etiquette, and, although they
are some of them repetitions of what I have already
given, they will be found to contain many useful hints:</p>

<p>“We now come to habits at table, which are very important.
However agreeable a man may be in society,
if he offends or disgusts by his table traits, he will soon
be scouted from it, and justly so. There are some broad
rules for behavior at table. Whenever there is a servant
to help you, never help yourself. Never put a knife
into your mouth, not even with cheese, which should be
eaten with a fork. Never use a spoon for anything but
liquids. Never touch anything edible with your fingers.</p>

<p>“Forks were, undoubtedly, a later invention than
fingers, but, as we are not cannibals, I am inclined to
think they were a good one. There are some few things
which you may take up with your fingers. Thus an
epicure will eat even macaroni with his fingers; and as
sucking asparagus is more pleasant than chewing it, you
may, as an epicure, take it up <i>au naturel</i>. But both
these things are generally eaten with a fork. Bread is,
of course, eaten with the fingers, and it would be absurd
to carve it with your knife and fork. It must, on the
contrary, always be broken when not buttered, and you
should never put a slice of dry bread to your mouth to
bite a piece off. Most fresh fruit, too, is eaten with the
natural prongs, but when you have peeled an orange or
apple, you should cut it with the aid of the fork, unless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">{59}</a></span>
you can succeed in breaking it. Apropos of which, I
may hint that no epicure ever yet put a knife to an
apple, and that an orange should be peeled with a spoon.
But the art of peeling an orange so as to hold its own
juice, and its own sugar too, is one that can scarcely be
taught in a book.</p>

<p>“However, let us go to dinner, and I will soon tell
you whether you are a well-bred man or not; and here
let me premise that what is good manners for a small
dinner is good manners for a large one, and <i>vice versâ</i>.
Now, the first thing you do is to sit down. Stop, sir!
pray do not cram yourself into the table in that way;
no, nor sit a yard from it, like that. How graceless, inconvenient,
and in the way of conversation! Why,
dear me! you are positively putting your elbows on the
table, and now you have got your hands fumbling about
with the spoons and forks, and now you are nearly
knocking my new hock glasses over. Can’t you take
your hands down, sir? Didn’t you learn that in the
nursery? Didn’t your mamma say to you, ‘Never put
your hands above the table except to carve or eat?’
Oh! but come, no nonsense, sit up, if you please. I
can’t have your fine head of hair forming a side dish on
my table; you must not bury your face in the plate, you
came to show it, and it ought to be alive. Well, but
there is no occasion to throw your head back like that,
you look like an alderman, sir, <em>after</em> dinner. Pray,
don’t lounge in that sleepy way. You are here to eat,
drink, and be merry. You can sleep when you get
home.</p>

<p>“Well, then, I suppose you can see your napkin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">{60}</a></span>
Got none, indeed! Very likely, in <em>my</em> house. You
may be sure that I never sit down to a meal without
napkins. I don’t want to make my tablecloths unfit for
use, and I don’t want to make my trousers unwearable.
Well, now, we are all seated, you can unfold it on your
knees; no, no; don’t tuck it into your waistcoat like an
alderman; and what! what on earth do you mean by
wiping your forehead with it? Do you take it for a
towel? Well, never mind, I am consoled that you did
not go farther, and use it as a pocket-handkerchief. So
talk away to the lady on your right, and wait till soup is
handed to you. By the way, that waiting is the most
important part of table manners, and, as much as possible,
you should avoid asking for anything or helping
yourself from the table. Your soup you eat with a
spoon&mdash;I don’t know what else you <em>could</em> eat it with&mdash;but
then it must be one of good size. Yes, that will do,
but I beg you will not make that odious noise in drinking
your soup. It is louder than a dog lapping water, and
a cat would be quite genteel to it. Then you need not
scrape up the plate in that way, nor even tilt it to get
the last drop. I shall be happy to send you some more;
but I must just remark, that it is not the custom to take
two helpings of soup, and it is liable to keep other people
waiting, which, once for all, is a selfish and intolerable
habit. But don’t you hear the servant offering you
sherry? I wish you would attend, for my servants have
quite enough to do, and can’t wait all the evening while
you finish that very mild story to Miss Goggles. Come,
leave that decanter alone. I had the wine put on the
table to fill up; the servants will hand it directly, or, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">{61}</a></span>
we are a small party, I will tell you to help yourself;
but, pray, do not be so officious. (There, I have sent
him some turbot to keep him quiet. I declare he cannot
make up his mind.) You are keeping my servant again,
sir. Will you, or will you not, do turbot? Don’t examine
it in that way; it is quite fresh, I assure you;
take or decline it. Ah, you take it, but that is no
reason why you should take up a knife too. Fish, I repeat
must never be touched with a knife. Take a fork
in the right and a small piece of bread in the left hand.
Good, but&mdash;? Oh! that is atrocious; of course you
must not swallow the bones, but you should rather do so
than spit them out in that way. Put up your napkin
like this, and land the said bone on your plate. Don’t
rub your head in the sauce, my good man, nor go progging
about after the shrimps or oysters therein. Oh!
how horrid! I declare your mouth was wide open and
full of fish. Small pieces, I beseech you; and once for
all, whatever you eat, keep your mouth <em>shut</em>, and never
attempt to talk with it full.</p>

<p>“So now you have got a pâté. Surely you are not
taking two on your plate. There is plenty of dinner to
come, and one is quite enough. Oh! dear me, you are
incorrigible. What! a knife to cut that light, brittle
pastry? No, nor fingers, never. Nor a spoon&mdash;almost
as bad. Take your fork, sir, your fork; and, now you
have eaten, oblige me by wiping your mouth and moustache
with your napkin, for there is a bit of the pastry
hanging to the latter, and looking very disagreeable.
Well, you can refuse a dish if you like. There is no
positive necessity for you to take venison if you don’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">{62}</a></span>
want it. But, at any rate, do not be in that terrific
hurry. You are not going off by the next train. Wait
for the sauce and wait for vegetables; but whether you
eat them or not, do not begin before everybody else.
Surely you must take my table for that of a railway refreshment-room,
for you have finished before the person
I helped first. Fast eating is bad for the digestion, my
good sir, and not very good manners either. What! are
you trying to eat meat with a fork alone? Oh! it is
sweetbread, I beg your pardon, you are quite right.
Let me give you a rule,&mdash;Everything that can be cut
without a knife, should be cut with a fork alone. Eat
your vegetables, therefore, with a fork. No, there is no
necessity to take a spoon for peas; a fork in the right
hand will do. What! did I really see you put your
knife into your mouth? Then I must give you up.
Once for all, and ever, the knife is to cut, not to help
with. Pray, do not munch in that noisy manner; chew
your food well, but softly. <em>Eat slowly.</em> Have you not
heard that Napoleon lost the battle of Leipsic by eating
too fast? It is a fact though. His haste caused indigestion,
which made him incapable of attending to the
details of the battle. You see you are the last person
eating at table. Sir, I will not allow you to speak to
my servants in that way. If they are so remiss as to
oblige you to ask for anything, do it gently, and in a
low tone, and thank a servant just as much as you would
his master. Ten to one he is as good a man; and because
he is your inferior in position, is the very reason
you should treat him courteously. Oh! it is of no use
to ask me to take wine; far from pacifying me, it will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">{63}</a></span>
only make me more angry, for I tell you the custom is
quite gone out, except in a few country villages, and at
a mess-table. Nor need you ask the lady to do so.
However, there is this consolation, if you should ask any
one to take wine with you, he or she <em>cannot</em> refuse, so
you have your own way. Perhaps next you will be asking
me to hob and nob, or <i>trinquer</i> in the French fashion
with arms encircled. Ah! you don’t know, perhaps,
that when a lady <i>trinques</i> in that way with you, you have
a right to finish off with a kiss. Very likely, indeed!
But it is the custom in familiar circles in France, but
then we are not Frenchmen. <em>Will</em> you attend to your
lady, sir? You did not come merely to eat, but to make
yourself agreeable. Don’t sit as glum as the Memnon at
Thebes; talk and be pleasant. Now, you have some
pudding. No knife&mdash;no, <em>no</em>. A spoon if you like, but
better still, a fork. Yes, ice requires a spoon; there is
a small one handed you, take that.</p>

<p>“Say ‘no.’ This is the fourth time wine has been
handed to you, and I am sure you have had enough.
Decline this time if you please. Decline that dish too.
Are you going to eat of everything that is handed? I
pity you if you do. No, you must not ask for more
cheese, and you must eat it with your fork. Break the
rusk with your fingers. Good. You are drinking a
glass of old port. Do not quaff it down at a gulp in
that way. Never drink a whole glassful of anything at
once.</p>

<p>“Well, here is the wine and dessert. Take whichever
wine you like, but remember you must keep to that, and
not change about. Before you go up stairs I will allow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">{64}</a></span>
you a glass of sherry after your claret, but otherwise
drink of one wine only. You don’t mean to say you are
helping yourself to wine before the ladies. At least,
offer it to the one next to you, and then pass it on,
gently, not with a push like that. Do not drink so fast;
you will hurry me in passing the decanters, if I see that
your glass is empty. You need not eat dessert till the
ladies are gone, but offer them whatever is nearest to
you. And now they are gone, draw your chair near
mine, and I will try and talk more pleasantly to you.
You will come out admirably at your next dinner with
all my teaching. What! you are excited, you are talking
loud to the colonel. Nonsense. Come and talk
easily to me or to your nearest neighbor. There, don’t
drink any more wine, for I see you are getting romantic.
You oblige me to make a move. You have had enough
of those walnuts; you are keeping me, my dear sir. So
now to coffee [one cup] and tea, which I beg you will
not pour into your saucer to cool. Well, the dinner has
done you good, and me too. Let us be amiable to the
ladies, but not too much so.”</p>

<p>“<em>Champ, champ; Smack, smack; Smack, smack;
Champ, champ;</em>&mdash;It is one thing to know how to make a
pudding, and another to know how to eat it when made.
Unmerciful and monstrous are the noises with which some
persons accompany the eating&mdash;no, the devouring of the
food for which, we trust, they are thankful. To sit
down with a company of such masticators is like joining
‘a herd of swine feeding.’ Soberly, at no time, probably,
are the rules of good breeding less regarded than
at ‘feeding time,’ and at no place is a departure from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">{65}</a></span>
these rules more noticeable than at table. Some persons
gnaw at a crust as dogs gnaw a bone, rattle knives and
spoons against their teeth as though anxious to prove
which is the harder, and scrape their plates with an energy
and perseverance which would be very commendable
if bestowed upon any object worth the trouble. Others,
in defiance of the old nursery rhyme&mdash;</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">‘I must not dip, howe’er I wish,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">My spoon or finger in the dish;’<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>are perpetually helping themselves in this very straightforward
and unsophisticated manner. Another, with a
mouth full of food contrives to make his teeth and tongue
perform the double duty of chewing and talking at the
same time. Another, quite in military style, in the intervals
of cramming, makes his knife and fork keep
guard over the jealously watched plate, being held upright
on either side in the clenched fist, like the musket
of a raw recruit. And another, as often as leisure serves,
fidgets his plate from left to right, and from right to left,
or round and round, until the painful operation of feeding
is over.</p>

<p>“There is, we know, such a thing as being ‘too nice’&mdash;‘more
nice than wise.’ It is quite possible to be fastidious.
But there are also such inconsiderable matters
as decency and good order; and it surely is better to
err on the right than on the wrong side of good breeding.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">{66}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.<br />
<span class="sub">ETIQUETTE IN THE STREET.</span></h2>

<p>A gentleman will be always polite, in the parlor,
dining-room, and in the street. This last clause will
especially include courtesy towards ladies, no matter
what may be their age or position. A man who will
annoy or insult a woman in the street, lowers himself to
a brute, no matter whether he offends by look, word, or
gesture. There are several little forms of etiquette,
given below, the observance of which will mark the gentleman
in the street.</p>

<p>When walking with a lady, or with a gentleman who
is older than yourself, give them the upper side of the
pavement, that is, the side nearest the house.</p>

<p>When walking alone, and you see any one coming towards
you on the same side of the street, give the upper
part of the pavement, as you turn aside, to a man who
may carry a heavy bundle, to a priest or clergyman, to
a woman, or to any elderly person.</p>

<p>In a crowd never rudely push aside those who impede
your progress, but wait patiently until the way is clear.
If you are hurried by business of importance or an engagement,
you will find that a few courteous words will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">{67}</a></span>
open the way before you more quickly than the most
violent pushing and loud talking.</p>

<p>If obliged to cross a plank, or narrow path, let any
lady or old person who may also be passing, precede
you. In case the way is slippery or in any way unsafe,
you may, with perfect propriety, offer to assist either a
lady or elderly person in crossing it.</p>

<p>Do not smoke in the street until after dark, and then
remove your cigar from your mouth, if you meet a lady.</p>

<p>Be careful about your dress. You can never know
whom you may meet, so it is best to never leave the
house otherwise than well-dressed. Bright colors, and
much jewelry are both unbecoming to a gentleman in
the street.</p>

<p>Avoid touching any one with your elbows in passing,
and do not swing your arms as you walk.</p>

<p>Be careful when walking with or near a lady, not to
put your foot upon her dress.</p>

<p>In carrying an umbrella, hold it so that you can see
the way clear before you; avoid striking your umbrella
against those which pass you; if you are walking with a
lady, let the umbrella cover her perfectly, but hold it so
that you will not touch her bonnet. If you have the
care of two ladies, let them carry the umbrella between
them, and walk outside yourself. Nothing can be more
absurd than for a gentleman to walk between two ladies,
holding the umbrella himself; while, in this way, he is
perfectly protected, the ladies receive upon their dresses
and cloaks the little streams of water which run from
the points of the umbrella.</p>

<p>In case of a sudden fall of rain, you may, with perfect<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">{68}</a></span>
propriety, offer your umbrella to a lady who is unprovided
with one. If she accepts it, and asks your
address to return it, leave it with her; if she hesitates,
and does not wish to deprive you of the use of it, you
may offer to accompany her to her destination, and then,
do not open a conversation; let your manner be respectful,
and when you leave her, let her thank you, assure
her of the pleasure it has given you to be of service,
bow, and leave her.</p>

<p>In meeting a lady friend, wait for her to bow to you,
and in returning her salutation, remove your hat. To
a gentleman you may bow, merely touching your hat,
if he is alone or with another gentleman; but if he has
a lady with him, raise your hat in bowing to him. If
you stop to speak to a lady, hold your hat in your hand,
until she leaves you, unless she requests you to replace it.
With a gentleman you may replace it immediately.</p>

<p>Never join a lady whom you may meet, without first
asking her permission to do so.</p>

<p>If you stop to converse with any one in the street,
stand near the houses, that you may not interfere with
others who are passing.</p>

<p>You may bow to a lady who is seated at a window, if
you are in the street; but you must not bow from a
window to a lady in the street.</p>

<p>Do not stop to join a crowd who are collected round
a street show, or street merchant, unless you wish to
pass for a countryman taking a holiday in the city.</p>

<p>If you stop any one to enquire your own way, or if
you are called upon to direct another, remove your hat
while asking or answering the question.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">{69}</a></span>
If you see a lady leaving a carriage unattended,
or hesitating at a bad crossing, you may, with propriety,
offer your hand or arm to assist her, and
having seen her safely upon the pavement, bow, and pass
on.</p>

<p>In a car or omnibus, when a lady wishes to get out,
stop the car for her, pass up her fare, and in an omnibus
alight and assist her in getting out, bowing as you leave
her.</p>

<p>Be gentle, courteous, and kind to children. There
is no surer token of a low, vulgar mind, than unkindness
to little ones whom you may meet in the streets.</p>

<p>A true gentleman never stops to consider what may be
the position of any woman whom it is in his power to aid
in the street. He will assist an Irish washerwoman with
her large basket or bundle over a crossing, or carry over
the little charges of a distressed negro nurse, with the
same gentle courtesy which he would extend toward the
lady who was stepping from her private carriage. The
true spirit of chivalry makes the courtesy due to the sex,
not to the position of the individual.</p>

<p>When you are escorting a lady in the street, politeness
does not absolutely require you to carry her bundle
or parasol, but if you are gallant you will do so. You
must regulate your walk by hers, and not force her to
keep up with your ordinary pace.</p>

<p>Watch that you do not lead her into any bad places,
and assist her carefully over each crossing, or wet place
on the pavement.</p>

<p>If you are walking in the country, and pass any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">{70}</a></span>
streamlet, offer your hand to assist your companion in
crossing.</p>

<p>If you pass over a fence, and she refuses your assistance
in crossing it, walk forward, and do not look back,
until she joins you again. The best way to assist a lady
over a fence, is to stand yourself upon the upper rail,
and while using one hand to keep a steady position,
stoop, offer her the other, and with a firm, steady grasp,
hold her hand until she stands beside you; then let her
go down on the other side first, and follow her when she
is safe upon the ground.</p>

<p>In starting for a walk with a lady, unless she is a
stranger in the place towards whom you act as guide,
let her select your destination.</p>

<p>Where there are several ladies, and you are required
to escort one of them, select the elderly, or those whose
personal appearance will probably make them least likely
to be sought by others. You will probably be repaid by
finding them very intelligent, and with a fund of conversation.
If there are more ladies than gentlemen, you
may offer an arm to two, with some jest about the difficulty
of choosing, or the double honor you enjoy.</p>

<p>Offer your seat in any public conveyance, to a lady
who is standing. It is often quite as great a kindness
and mark of courtesy to take a child in your lap.</p>

<p>When with a lady you must pay her expenses as well
as your own; if she offers to share the expense, decline
unless she insists upon it, in the latter case yield gracefully.
Many ladies, who have no brother or father, and
are dependent upon their gentlemen friends for escort,
make it a rule to be under no pecuniary obligations to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">{71}</a></span>
them, and you will, in such a case, offend more by insisting
upon your right to take that expense, than by
quietly pocketing your dignity and their cash together.</p>

<p>I know many gentlemen will cry out at my assertion;
but I have observed this matter, and know many <em>ladies</em>
who will sincerely agree with me in my opinion.</p>

<p>In a carriage always give the back seat to the lady
or ladies accompanying you. If you have but one lady
with you, take the seat opposite to her, unless she invites
you to sit beside her, in which case accept her offer.</p>

<p>Never put your arm across the seat, or around her,
as many do in riding. It is an impertinence, and if she
is a lady of refinement, she will resent it as such.</p>

<p>If you offer a seat in your carriage to a lady, or another
gentleman whom you may meet at a party or picnic,
take them home, before you drive to your own destination,
no matter how much you may have to drive out of
your own way.</p>

<p>Be the last to enter the carriage, the first to leave it.
If you have ladies with you, offer them your hand to
assist them in entering and alighting, and you should
take the arm of an old gentleman to assist him.</p>

<p>If offered a seat in the carriage of a gentleman friend,
stand aside for him to get in first, but if he waits for
you, bow and take your seat before he does.</p>

<p>When driving a lady in a two-seated vehicle, you
should assist her to enter the carriage, see that her dress
is not in danger of touching the wheels, and that her
shawl, parasol, and fan, are where she can reach them,
before you take your own seat. If she wishes to stop,
and you remain with the horses, you should alight before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">{72}</a></span>
she does, assist her in alighting, and again alight to
help her to her seat when she returns, even if you keep
your place on the seat whilst she is gone.</p>

<p>When attending a lady in a horse-back ride, never
mount your horse until she is ready to start. Give her
your hand to assist her in mounting, arrange the folds
of her habit, hand her her reins and her whip, and then
take your own seat on your saddle.</p>

<p>Let her pace be yours. Start when she does, and let
her decide how fast or slowly she will ride. Never let
the head of your horse pass the shoulders of hers, and be
watchful and ready to render her any assistance she may
require.</p>

<p>Never, by rapid riding, force her to ride faster than
she may desire.</p>

<p>Never touch her bridle, reins, or whip, except she particularly
requests your assistance, or an accident, or
threatened danger, makes it necessary.</p>

<p>If there is dust or wind, ride so as to protect her from
it as far as possible.</p>

<p>If the road is muddy be careful that you do not ride
so as to bespatter her habit. It is best to ride on the
side away from that upon which her habit falls. Some
ladies change their side in riding, from time to time, and
you must watch and see upon which side the skirt falls,
that, on a muddy day, you may avoid favoring the habit
with the mud your horse’s hoofs throw up.</p>

<p>If you ride with a gentleman older than yourself, or
one who claims your respect, let him mount before you
do. Extend the same courtesy towards any gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">{73}</a></span>
whom you have invited to accompany you, as he is, for
the ride, your guest.</p>

<p>The honorable place is on the right. Give this to a
lady, an elderly man, or your guest.</p>

<p>A modern writer says:&mdash;“If walking with a female
relative or friend, a well-bred man will take the outer
side of the pavement, not only because the wall-side is
the most honorable side of a public walk, but also because
it is generally the farthest point from danger in the
street. If walking alone, he will be ready to offer assistance
to any female whom he may see exposed to real
peril from any source. Courtesy and manly courage
will both incite him to this line of conduct. In general,
this is a point of honor which almost all men are proud
to achieve. It has frequently happened that even where
the savage passions of men have been excited, and when
mobs have been in actual conflict, women have been gallantly
escorted through the sanguinary crowd unharmed,
and their presence has even been a protection to their
protectors. This is as it should be; and such incidents
have shown in a striking manner, not only the excellency
of good breeding, but have also brought it out when and
where it was least to be expected.</p>

<p>“In streets and all public walks, a well-bred person
will be easily distinguished from another who sets at defiance
the rules of good breeding. He will not, whatever
be his station, hinder and annoy his fellow pedestrians,
by loitering or standing still in the middle of the
footway. He will, if walking in company, abstain from
making impertinent remarks on those he meets; he will
even be careful not to appear indelicately to notice them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">{74}</a></span>
He will not take ‘the crown of the causeway’ to himself,
but readily fall in with the convenient custom which necessity
has provided, and walk on the right side of the
path, leaving the left side free for those who are walking
in the opposite direction. Any departure from these
plain rules of good breeding is downright rudeness and
insult; or, at all events, it betrays great ignorance or
disregard for propriety. And yet, how often are they
departed from! It is, by no means, uncommon, especially
in country places, for groups of working men to
obstruct the pathway upon which they take a fancy to
lounge, without any definite object, as far as appears,
but that of making rude remarks upon passers-by. But
it is not only the laboring classes of society who offend
against good breeding in this way; too many others offend
in the same, and by stopping to talk in the middle
of the pavement put all who pass to great inconvenience.”</p>

<p>In meeting a lady do not offer to shake hands with
her, but accept her hand when <em>she</em> offers it for you to
take.</p>

<p>“In France, where politeness is found in every class,
the people do not run against each other in the streets,
nor brush rudely by each other, as they sometimes do in
our cities. It adds much to the pleasure of walking, to
be free from such annoyance; and this can only be
brought about by the well-taught few setting a good example
to the many. By having your wits about you,
you can win your way through a thronged street without
touching even the extreme circumference of a balloon
sleeve; and, if each one strove to avoid all contact, it
would be easily accomplished.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">{75}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.<br />
<span class="sub">ETIQUETTE FOR CALLING.</span></h2>

<p>A gentleman in society must calculate to give a certain
portion of his time to making calls upon his friends,
both ladies and gentlemen. He may extend his visiting
list to as large a number as his inclination and time will
permit him to attend to, but he cannot contract it after
passing certain limits. His position as a man in society
obliges him to call,</p>

<p>Upon any stranger visiting his city, who brings a letter
of introduction to him;</p>

<p>Upon any friend from another city, to whose hospitality
he has been at any time indebted;</p>

<p>Upon any gentleman after receiving from his hands a
favor or courtesy;</p>

<p>Upon his host at any dinner or supper party, (such
calls should be made very soon after the entertainment
given);</p>

<p>Upon any friend whose joy or grief calls for an
expression of sympathy, whether it be congratulation or
condolence;</p>

<p>Upon any friend who has lately returned from a voyage
or long journey;</p>

<p>Upon any lady who has accepted his services as an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">{76}</a></span>
escort, either for a journey or the return from a ball or
evening party; this call must be made the day after he
has thus escorted the lady;</p>

<p>Upon his hostess after any party to which he has
been invited, whether he has accepted or declined such
invitation;</p>

<p>Upon any lady who has accepted his escort for an
evening, a walk or a drive;</p>

<p>Upon any friend whom long or severe illness keeps
confined to the house;</p>

<p>Upon his lady friends on New Year’s day, (if it is the
custom of the city in which he resides;)</p>

<p>Upon any of his friends when they receive bridal
calls;</p>

<p>Upon lady friends in any city you are visiting; if
gentlemen friends reside in the same city, you may
either call upon them or send your card with your address
and the length of time you intend staying, written
upon it; if a stranger or friend visiting your city sends
such a card, you must call at the earliest opportunity;</p>

<p>Upon any one of whom you wish to ask a favor; to
make him, under such circumstances call upon you, is
extremely rude;</p>

<p>Upon any one who has asked a favor of you; you
will add very much to the pleasure you confer, in granting
a favor, by calling to express the gratification it
affords you to be able to oblige your friend; you will
soften the pain of a refusal, if, by calling, and expressing
your regret, you show that you feel interested in the
request, and consider it of importance.</p>

<p>Upon intimate friends, relatives, and ladies, you may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">{77}</a></span>
call without waiting for any of the occasions given
above.</p>

<p>Do not fall into the vulgar error of declaiming against
the practice of making calls, declaring it a “bore,” tiresome,
or stupid. The custom is a good one.</p>

<p>An English writer says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“The visit or call is a much better institution than is
generally supposed. It has its drawbacks. It wastes
much time; it necessitates much small talk. It obliges
one to dress on the chance of finding a friend at home;
but for all this it is almost the only means of making an
acquaintance ripen into friendship. In the visit, all the
strain, which general society somehow necessitates, is
thrown off. A man receives you in his rooms cordially,
and makes you welcome, not to a stiff dinner, but an
easy chair and conversation. A lady, who in the ball
room or party has been compelled to limit her conversation,
can here speak more freely. The talk can
descend from generalities to personal inquiries, and need
I say, that if you wish to know a young lady truly, you
must see her at home, and by day light.</p>

<p>“The main points to be observed about visits, are the
proper occasions and the proper hours. Now, between
actual friends there is little need of etiquette in these
respects. A friendly visit may be made at any time, on
any occasion. True, you are more welcome when the
business of the day is over, in the afternoon rather than
in the morning, and you must, even as a friend, avoid
calling at meal times. But, on the other hand, many
people receive visits in the evening, and certainly this is
the best time to make them.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">{78}</a></span>
Any first call which you receive must be returned
promptly. If you do not wish to continue the acquaintance
any farther, you need not return a second call,
but politeness imperatively demands a return of the first
one.</p>

<p>A call may be made upon ladies in the morning or
afternoon; but in this country, where almost every man
has some business to occupy his day, the evening is the
best time for paying calls. You will gain ground in
easy intercourse and friendly acquaintance more rapidly
in one evening, than in several morning calls.</p>

<p>Never make a call upon a lady before eleven o’clock
in the morning, or after nine in the evening.</p>

<p>Avoid meal times. If you inadvertently call at dinner
or tea time, and your host is thus forced to invite
you to the table, it is best to decline the civility. If,
however, you see that you will give pleasure by staying,
accept the invitation, but be careful to avoid calling
again at the same hour.</p>

<p>No man in the United States, excepting His Excellency,
the President, can expect to receive calls unless
he returns them.</p>

<p>“Visiting,” says a French writer, “forms the cord
which binds society together, and it is so firmly tied,
that were the knot severed, society would perish.”</p>

<p>A ceremonious call should never extend over more
than fifteen minutes, and it should not be less than ten
minutes.</p>

<p>If you see the master of the house take letters or a
paper from his pocket, look at the clock, have an absent
air, beat time with his fingers or hands, or in any other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">{79}</a></span>
way show weariness or <i>ennui</i>, you may safely conclude
that it is time for you to leave, though you may not
have been five minutes in the house. If you are host to
the most wearisome visitor in existence, if he stays hours,
and converses only on subjects which do not interest
you, in the least; unless he is keeping you from an
important engagement, you must not show the least
sign of weariness. Listen to him politely, endeavor
to entertain him, and preserve a smiling composure,
though you may long to show him the door. In
case he is keeping you from business of importance, or
an imperative engagement, you may, without any infringement
upon the laws of politeness, inform him of
the fact, and beg him to excuse you; you must, however,
express polite regret at your enforced want of hospitality,
and invite him to call again.</p>

<p>It is quite an art to make a graceful exit after a call.
To know how to choose the moment when you will be
regretted, and to retire leaving your friends anxious for
a repetition of the call, is an accomplishment worth acquiring.</p>

<p>When you begin to tire of your visit, you may generally
feel sure that your entertainers are tired of you, and
if you do not want to remain printed upon their memory
as “the man who makes such long, tiresome calls,” you
will retire.</p>

<p>If other callers come in before you leave a friend’s
parlor, do not rise immediately as if you wished to avoid
them, but remain seated a few moments, and then leave,
that your hostess may not have too many visitors to
entertain at one time.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">{80}</a></span>
If you have been enjoying a <i>tête-à-tête</i> interview with
a lady, and other callers come in, do not hurry away,
as if detected in a crime, but after a few courteous, graceful
words, and the interchange of some pleasant remarks,
leave her to entertain her other friends.</p>

<p>To endeavor when making a call to “sit out” others
in the room, is very rude.</p>

<p>When your host or hostess urges you to stay longer,
after you have risen to go, be sure that that is the best
time for departure. You will do better to go then,
when you will be regretted, than to wait until you have
worn your welcome out.</p>

<p>When making a visit of condolence, take your tone
from your host or hostess. If they speak of their misfortune,
or, in case of death, of the departed relative,
join them. Speak of the talents or virtues of the deceased,
and your sympathy with their loss. If, on the
other hand, they avoid the subject, then it is best for
you to avoid it too. They may feel their inability to
sustain a conversation upon the subject of their recent
affliction, and it would then be cruel to force it upon
them. If you see that they are making an effort, perhaps
a painful one, to appear cheerful, try to make them
forget for the time their sorrows, and chat on cheerful
subjects. At the same time, avoid jesting, merriment,
or undue levity, as it will be out of place, and appear
heartless.</p>

<p>A visit of congratulation, should, on the contrary, be
cheerful, gay, and joyous. Here, painful subjects would
be out of place. Do not mar the happiness of your friend
by the description of the misery of your own position or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">{81}</a></span>
that of a third person, but endeavor to show by joyous
sympathy that the pleasure of your friend is also your
happiness. To laugh with those who laugh, weep with
those who are afflicted, is not hypocrisy, but kindly,
friendly sympathy.</p>

<p>Always, when making a friendly call, send up your
card, by the servant who opens the door.</p>

<p>There are many times when a card may be left, even
if the family upon which you call is at home. Visits of
condolence, unless amongst relatives or very intimate
friends, are best made by leaving a card with enquiries
for the health of the family, and offers of service.</p>

<p>If you see upon entering a friend’s parlor, that your
call is keeping him from going out, or, if you find a lady
friend dressed for a party or promenade, make your
visit very brief. In the latter case, if the lady seems
unattended, and urges your stay, you may offer your services
as an escort.</p>

<p>Never visit a literary man, an artist, any man whose
profession allows him to remain at home, at the hours
when he is engaged in the pursuit of his profession.
The fact that you know he is at home is nothing; he
will not care to receive visits during the time allotted to
his daily work.</p>

<p>Never take another gentleman to call upon one of
your lady friends without first obtaining her permission
to do so.</p>

<p>The calls made after receiving an invitation to dinner,
a party, ball, or other entertainment should be made
within a fortnight after the civility has been accepted.</p>

<p>When you have saluted the host and hostess, do not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">{82}</a></span>
take a seat until they invite you to do so, or by a motion,
and themselves sitting down, show that they expect you
to do the same.</p>

<p>Keep your hat in your hand when making a call.
This will show your host that you do not intend to remain
to dine or sup with him. You may leave an umbrella
or cane in the hall if you wish, but your hat and
gloves you must carry into the parlor. In making an
evening call for the first time keep your hat and gloves
in your hand, until the host or hostess requests you to
lay them aside and spend the evening.</p>

<p>When going to spend the evening with a friend whom
you visit often, leave your hat, gloves, and great coat in
the hall.</p>

<p>If, on entering a parlor of a lady friend, in the evening,
you see by her dress, or any other token, that she
was expecting to go to the opera, concert, or an evening
party, make a call of a few minutes only, and then retire.
I have known men who accepted instantly the invitation
given them to remain under these circumstances,
and deprive their friends of an anticipated pleasure,
when their call could have been made at any other time.
To thus impose upon the courtesy of your friends is excessively
rude. Nothing will pardon such an acceptance
but the impossibility of repeating your call, owing to a
short stay in town, or any other cause. Even in this
case it is better to accompany your friends upon their
expedition in search of pleasure. You can, of course,
easily obtain admittance if they are going to a public
entertainment, and if they invite you to join their party
to a friend’s house, you may without impropriety do so,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">{83}</a></span>
as a lady is privileged to introduce you to her friends under
such circumstances. It requires tact and discretion to
know when to accept and when to decline such an invitation.
Be careful that you do not intrude upon a party
already complete in themselves, or that you do not interfere
with the plans of the gentlemen who have already
been accepted as escorts.</p>

<p>Never make a <em>third</em> upon such occasions. Neither
one of a couple who propose spending the evening abroad
together, will thank the intruder who spoils their tête-à-tête.</p>

<p>When you find, on entering a room, that your visit is
for any reason inopportune, do not instantly retire unless
you have entered unperceived and can so leave, in which
case leave immediately; if, however, you have been seen,
your instant retreat is cut off. Then endeavor by your
own graceful ease to cover any embarrassment your entrance
may have caused, make but a short call, and, if
you can, leave your friends under the impression that
you saw nothing out of the way when you entered.</p>

<p>Always leave a card when you find the person upon
whom you have called absent from home.</p>

<p>A card should have nothing written upon it, but your
name and address. To leave a card with your business
address, or the nature of your profession written upon
it, shows a shocking ignorance of polite society. Business
cards are never to be used excepting when you
make a business call.</p>

<p>Never use a card that is ornamented in any way,
whether by a fancy border, painted corners, or embossing.
Let it be perfectly plain, tinted, if you like,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">{84}</a></span>
in color, but without ornament, and have your name
written or printed in the middle, your address, in smaller
characters, in the lower left hand corner. Many gentlemen
omit the Mr. upon their cards, writing merely their
Christian and surname; this is a matter of taste, you
may follow your own inclination. Let your card be
written thus:&mdash;</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="center smcap">Henry C. Pratt</p>

<p>No. 217 L. street.</p>
</div>

<p>A physician will put Dr. before or M.D. after the
name, and an officer in the army or navy may add his
title; but for militia officers to do so is absurd.</p>

<p>If you call upon a lady, who invites you to be seated,
place a chair for her, and wait until she takes it before
you sit down yourself.</p>

<p>Never sit beside a lady upon a sofa, or on a chair very
near her own, unless she invites you to do so.</p>

<p>If a lady enters the room where you are making a
call, rise, and remain standing until she is seated. Even
if she is a perfect stranger, offer her a chair, if there is
none near her.</p>

<p>You must rise if a lady leaves the room, and remain
standing until she has passed out.</p>

<p>If you are engaged in any profession which you follow
at home, and receive a caller, you may, during the daytime,
invite him into your library, study, or the room in
which you work, and, unless you use your pen, you may
work while he is with you.</p>

<p>When you receive a visitor, meet him at the door, offer
a chair, take his hat and cane, and, while speaking of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">{85}</a></span>
the pleasure the call affords you, show, by your manner,
that you are sincere, and desire a long call.</p>

<p>Do not let your host come with you any farther than
the room door if he has other visitors; but if you are
showing out a friend, and leave no others in the parlor,
you should come to the street door.</p>

<p>A few hints from an English author, will not be amiss
in this place. He says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Visits of condolence and congratulation must be
made about a week after the event. If you are intimate
with the person on whom you call, you may ask, in the
first case, for admission; if not, it is better only to leave
a card, and make your ‘kind inquiries’ of the servant,
who is generally primed in what manner to answer
them. In visits of congratulation you should always go
in, and be hearty in your congratulations. Visits of
condolence are terrible inflictions to both receiver and
giver, but they may be made less so by avoiding, as
much as consistent with sympathy, any allusion to the
past. The receiver does well to abstain from tears. A
lady of my acquaintance, who had lost her husband, was
receiving such a visit in her best crape. She wept profusely
for some time upon the best of broad-hemmed
cambric handkerchiefs, and then turning to her visitor,
said: ‘I am sure you will be glad to hear that Mr. B.
has left me most comfortably provided for.’ <i>Hinc illæ
lacrymæ.</i> Perhaps they would have been more sincere
if he had left her without a penny. At the same time,
if you have not sympathy and heart enough to pump up
a little condolence, you will do better to avoid it, but
take care that your conversation is not too gay. Whatever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">{86}</a></span>
you may feel, you must respect the sorrows of
others.</p>

<p>“On marriage, cards are sent round to such people as
you wish to keep among your acquaintance, and it is then
their part to call first on the young couple, when within
distance.</p>

<p>“Having entered the house, you take up with you to
the drawing-room both hat and cane, but leave an umbrella
in the hall. In France it is usual to leave a
great-coat down stairs also, but as calls are made in this
country in morning dress, it is not necessary to do so.</p>

<p>“It is not usual to introduce people at morning calls
in large towns; in the country it is sometimes done, not
always. The law of introductions is, in fact, to force
no one into an acquaintance. You should, therefore, ascertain
beforehand whether it is agreeable to both to be
introduced; but if a lady or a superior expresses a wish
to know a gentleman or an inferior, the latter two have
no right to decline the honor. The introduction is of an
inferior [which position a gentleman always holds to a
lady] to the superior. You introduce Mr. Smith to Mrs.
Jones, or Mr. A. to Lord B., not <i>vice versa</i>. In introducing
two persons, it is not necessary to lead one of
them up by the hand, but it is sufficient simply to precede
them. Having thus brought the person to be introduced
up to the one to whom he is to be presented, it is
the custom, even when the consent has been previously
obtained, to say, with a slight bow, to the superior personage:
‘Will you allow me to introduce Mr. &mdash;&mdash;?’
The person addressed replies by bowing to the one introduced,
who also bows at the same time, while the introducer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">{87}</a></span>
repeats their names, and then retires, leaving them
to converse. Thus, for instance, in presenting Mr.
Jones to Mrs. Smith, you will say, ‘Mrs. Smith, allow
me to introduce Mr. Jones,’ and while they are engaged
in bowing you will murmur, ‘Mrs. Smith&mdash;Mr. Jones,’
and escape. If you have to present three or four people
to said Mrs. Smith, it will suffice to utter their respective
names without repeating that of the lady.</p>

<p>“A well-bred person always receives visitors at whatever
time they may call, or whoever they may be; but
if you are occupied and cannot afford to be interrupted
by a mere ceremony, you should instruct the servant <em>beforehand</em>
to say that you are ‘not at home.’ This form
has often been denounced as a falsehood, but a lie is no
lie unless intended to deceive; and since the words are
universally understood to mean that you are engaged, it
can be no harm to give such an order to a servant. But,
on the other hand, if the servant once admits a visitor
within the hall, you should receive him at any inconvenience
to yourself.”</p>

<p>He also gives some admirable hints upon visits made
to friends in another city or the country.</p>

<p>He says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“A few words on visits to country houses before I quit
this subject. Since a man’s house is his castle, no one,
not even a near relation, has a right to invite himself to
stay in it. It is not only taking a liberty to do so, but
may prove to be very inconvenient. A general invitation,
too, should never be acted on. It is often given
without any intention of following it up; but, if given,
should be turned into a special one sooner or later. An<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">{88}</a></span>
invitation should specify the persons whom it includes,
and the person invited should never presume to take
with him any one not specified. If a gentleman cannot
dispense with his valet, he should write to ask leave to
bring a servant; but the means of your inviter, and the
size of the house, should be taken into consideration, and
it is better taste to dispense with a servant altogether.
Children and horses are still more troublesome, and
should never be taken without special mention made of
them. It is equally bad taste to arrive with a wagonful
of luggage, as that is naturally taken as a hint that
you intend to stay a long time. The length of a country
visit is indeed a difficult matter to decide, but in the
present day people who receive much generally specify
the length in their invitation&mdash;a plan which saves a great
deal of trouble and doubt. But a custom not so commendable
has lately come in of limiting the visits of acquaintance
to two or three days. This may be pardonable
where the guest lives at no great distance, but it is
preposterous to expect a person to travel a long distance
for a stay of three nights. If, however, the length be
not specified, and cannot easily be discovered, a week is
the limit for a country visit, except at the house of a
near relation or very old friend. It will, however, save
trouble to yourself, if, soon after your arrival, you state
that you are come “for a few days,” and, if your host
wishes you to make a longer visit, he will at once press
you to do so.</p>

<p>“The main point in a country visit is to give as little
trouble as possible, to conform to the habits of your entertainers,
and never to be in the way. On this principle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">{89}</a></span>
you will retire to your own occupations soon after
breakfast, unless some arrangement has been made for
passing the morning otherwise. If you have nothing to
do, you may be sure that your host has something to
attend to in the morning. Another point of good-breeding
is to be punctual at meals, for a host and hostess
never sit down without their guest, and dinner may be
getting cold. If, however, a guest should fail in this
particular, a well-bred entertainer will not only take no
notice of it, but attempt to set the late comer as much
at his ease as possible. A host should provide amusement
for his guests, and give up his time as much as
possible to them; but if he should be a professional man
or student&mdash;an author, for instance&mdash;the guest should,
at the commencement of the visit, insist that he will not
allow him to interrupt his occupations, and the latter
will set his visitor more at his ease by accepting this arrangement.
In fact, the rule on which a host should
act is to make his visitors as much at home as possible;
that on which a visitor should act, is to interfere as little
as possible with the domestic routine of the house.</p>

<p>“The worst part of a country visit is the necessity of
giving gratuities to the servants, for a poor man may
often find his visit cost him far more than if he had
stayed at home. It is a custom which ought to be put
down, because a host who receives much should pay his
own servants for the extra trouble given. Some people
have made by-laws against it in their houses, but, like
those about gratuities to railway-porters, they are seldom
regarded. In a great house a man-servant expects gold,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">{90}</a></span>
but a poor man should not be ashamed of offering him
silver. It must depend on the length of the visit. The
ladies give to the female, the gentlemen to the male servants.
Would that I might see my friends without paying
them for their hospitality in this indirect manner!”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">{91}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.<br />
<span class="sub">ETIQUETTE FOR THE BALL ROOM.</span></h2>

<p>Of all the amusements open for young people, none
is more delightful and more popular than dancing. Lord
Chesterfield, in his letters to his son, says: “Dancing
is, in itself, a very trifling and silly thing; but it is one
of those established follies to which people of sense are
sometimes obliged to conform; and then they should be
able to do it well. And, though I would not have you
a dancer, yet, when you do dance, I would have you
dance well, as I would have you do everything you do
well.” In another letter, he writes: “Do you mind
your dancing while your dancing master is with you?
As you will be often under the necessity of dancing a
minuet, I would have you dance it very well. Remember
that the graceful motion of the arms, the giving of your
hand, and the putting off and putting on of your hat
genteelly, are the material parts of a gentleman’s dancing.
But the greatest advantage of dancing well is,
that it necessarily teaches you to present yourself, to sit,
stand, and walk genteelly; all of which are of real importance
to a man of fashion.”</p>

<p>Although the days are over when gentlemen carried
their hats into ball rooms and danced minuets, there are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">{92}</a></span>
useful hints in the quotations given above. Nothing
will give ease of manner and a graceful carriage to a
gentleman more surely than the knowledge of dancing.
He will, in its practice, acquire easy motion, a light step,
and learn to use both hands and feet well. What can
be more awkward than a man who continually finds his
hands and feet in his way, and, by his fussy movements,
betrays his trouble? A good dancer never feels
this embarrassment, consequently he never appears aware
of the existence of his feet, and carries his hands and
arms gracefully. Some people being bashful and afraid
of attracting attention in a ball room or evening party,
do not take lessons in dancing, overlooking the fact that
it is those who do <em>not</em> partake of the amusement on such
occasions, not those who do, that attract attention. To
all such gentlemen I would say; Learn to dance. You
will find it one of the very best plans for correcting
bashfulness. Unless you possess the accomplishments
that are common in polite society, you can neither give
nor receive all the benefits that can be derived from social
intercourse.</p>

<p>When you receive an invitation to a ball, answer it immediately.</p>

<p>If you go alone, go from the dressing-room to the
ball room, find your host and hostess, and speak first to
them; if there are several ladies in the house, take the
earliest opportunity of paying your respects to each of
them, and invite one of them to dance with you the first
dance. If she is already engaged, you should endeavor
to engage her for a dance later in the evening, and are
then at liberty to seek a partner amongst the guests.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">{93}</a></span>
When you have engaged a partner for a dance, you
should go to her a few moments before the set for which
you have engaged her will be formed, that you may not
be hurried in taking your places upon the floor. Enquire
whether she prefers the head or side place in the
set, and take the position she names.</p>

<p>In inviting a lady to dance with you, the words, “Will
you <em>honor</em> me with your hand for a quadrille?” or,
“Shall I have the <em>honor</em> of dancing this set with you?”
are more used now than “Shall I have the <em>pleasure</em>?” or,
“Will you give me the <em>pleasure</em> of dancing with you?”</p>

<p>Offer a lady your arm to lead her to the quadrille,
and in the pauses between the figures endeavor to make
the duty of standing still less tiresome by pleasant conversation.
Let the subjects be light, as you will be constantly
interrupted by the figures in the dance. There
is no occasion upon which a pleasant flow of small talk
is more <i>àpropos</i>, and agreeable than in a ball room.</p>

<p>When the dance is over, offer your arm to your partner,
and enquire whether she prefers to go immediately
to her seat, or wishes to promenade. If she chooses
the former, conduct her to her seat, stand near her a few
moments, chatting, then bow, and give other gentlemen
an opportunity of addressing her. If she prefers to
promenade, walk with her until she expresses a wish to
sit down. Enquire, before you leave her, whether you
can be of any service, and, if the supper-room is open,
invite her to go in there with you.</p>

<p>You will pay a delicate compliment and one that will
certainly be appreciated, if, when a lady declines your
invitation to dance on the plea of fatigue or fear of fatigue,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">{94}</a></span>
you do not seek another partner, but remain with
the lady you have just invited, and thus imply that the
pleasure of talking with, and being near, her, is greater
than that of dancing with another.</p>

<p>Let your hostess understand that you are at her service
for the evening, that she may have a prospect of giving
her wall flowers a partner, and, however unattractive
these may prove, endeavor to make yourself as agreeable
to them as possible.</p>

<p>Your conduct will differ if you escort a lady to a ball.
Then your principal attentions must be paid to her.
You must call for her punctually at the hour she has appointed,
and it is your duty to provide the carriage.
You may carry her a bouquet if you will, this is optional.
A more elegant way of presenting it is to send it in the
afternoon with your card, as, if you wait until evening,
she may think you do not mean to present one, and provide
one for herself.</p>

<p>When you arrive at your destination, leave the carriage,
and assist her in alighting; then escort her to the
lady’s dressing-room, leave her at the door, and go to the
gentlemen’s dressing-room. As soon as you have arranged
your own dress, go again to the door of the
lady’s room, and wait until your companion comes out.
Give her your left arm and escort her to the ball room;
find the hostess and lead your companion to her. When
they have exchanged greetings, lead your lady to a seat,
and then engage her for the first dance. Tell her that
while you will not deprive others of the pleasure of
dancing with her, you are desirous of dancing with her
whenever she is not more pleasantly engaged, and before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">{95}</a></span>
seeking a partner for any other set, see whether your
lady is engaged or is ready to dance again with you.
You must watch during the evening, and, while you do
not force your attentions upon her, or prevent others
from paying her attention, you must never allow her to
be alone, but join her whenever others are not speaking
to her. You must take her in to supper, and be ready
to leave the party, whenever she wishes to do so.</p>

<p>If the ball is given in your own house, or at that of a
near relative, it becomes your duty to see that every
lady, young or old, handsome or ugly, is provided with a
partner, though the oldest and ugliest may fall to your
own share.</p>

<p>Never stand up to dance unless you are perfect master
of the step, figure, and time of that dance. If you
make a mistake you not only render yourself ridiculous,
but you annoy your partner and the others in the set.</p>

<p>If you have come alone to a ball, do not devote yourself
entirely to any one lady. Divide your attentions
amongst several, and never dance twice in succession
with the same partner.</p>

<p>To affect an air of secrecy or mystery when conversing
in a ball-room is a piece of impertinence for which no
lady of delicacy will thank you.</p>

<p>When you conduct your partner to her seat, thank
her for the pleasure she has conferred upon you, and do
not remain too long conversing with her.</p>

<p>Give your partner your whole attention when dancing
with her. To let your eyes wander round the room, or
to make remarks betraying your interest in others, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">{96}</a></span>
not flattering, as she will not be unobservant of your
want of taste.</p>

<p>Be very careful not to forget an engagement. It is
an unpardonable breach of politeness to ask a lady to
dance with you, and neglect to remind her of her promise
when the time to redeem it comes.</p>

<p>A dress coat, dress boots, full suit of black, and white
or very light kid gloves must be worn in a ball room. A
white waistcoat and cravat are sometimes worn, but this
is a matter of taste.</p>

<p>Never wait until the music commences before inviting
a lady to dance with you.</p>

<p>If one lady refuses you, do not ask another who is
seated near her to dance the same set. Do not go immediately
to another lady, but chat a few moments with
the one whom you first invited, and then join a group or
gentlemen friends for a few moments, before seeking another
partner.</p>

<p>Never dance without gloves. This is an imperative
rule. It is best to carry two pair, as in the contact with
dark dresses, or in handing refreshments, you may soil
the pair you wear on entering the room, and will thus
be under the necessity of offering your hand covered by
a soiled glove, to some fair partner. You can slip unperceived
from the room, change the soiled for a fresh
pair, and then avoid that mortification.</p>

<p>If your partner has a bouquet, handkerchief, or fan
in her hand, do not offer to carry them for her. If she
finds they embarrass her, she will request you to hold
them for her, but etiquette requires you not to notice
them, unless she speaks of them first.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">{97}</a></span>
Do not be the last to leave the ball room. It is more
elegant to leave early, as staying too late gives others
the impression that you do not often have an invitation
to a ball, and must “make the most of it.”</p>

<p>Some gentlemen linger at a private ball until all the
ladies have left, and then congregate in the supper-room,
where they remain for hours, totally regardless of the
fact that they are keeping the wearied host and his servants
from their rest. Never, as you value your reputation
as a gentleman of refinement, be among the number
of these “hangers on.”</p>

<p>The author of a recent work on etiquette, published
in England, gives the following hints for those who go
to balls. He says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“When inviting a lady to dance, if she replies very
politely, asking to be excused, as she does not wish to
dance (‘with you,’ being probably her mental reservation),
a man ought to be satisfied. At all events, he
should never press her to dance after one refusal. The
set forms which Turveydrop would give for the invitation
are too much of the deportment school to be used
in practice. If you know a young lady slightly, it is
sufficient to say to her, ‘May I have the pleasure of
dancing this waltz, &amp;c., with you?’ or if intimately,
‘Will you dance, Miss A&mdash;?’ The young lady who has
refused one gentleman, has no right to accept another
for that dance; and young ladies who do not wish to be
annoyed, must take care not to accept two gentlemen
for the same dance. In Germany such innocent blunders
often cause fatal results. Two partners arrive at
the same moment to claim the fair one’s hand; she vows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">{98}</a></span>
she has not made a mistake; ‘was sure she was engaged
to Herr A&mdash;, and not to Herr B&mdash;;’ Herr B&mdash; is equally
certain that she was engaged to him. The awkwardness
is, that if he at once gives her up, he appears to be indifferent
about it; while, if he presses his suit, he must
quarrel with Herr A&mdash;, unless the damsel is clever
enough to satisfy both of them; and particularly if there
is an especial interest in Herr B&mdash;, he yields at last,
but when the dance is over, sends a friend to Herr A&mdash;.
Absurd as all this is, it is common, and I have often
seen one Herr or the other walking about with a huge
gash on his cheek, or his arm in a sling, a few days after
a ball.</p>

<p>“Friendship, it appears, can be let out on hire. The
lady who was so very amiable to you last night, has a
right to ignore your existence to-day. In fact, a ball
room acquaintance rarely goes any farther, until you
have met at more balls than one. In the same way a
man cannot, after being introduced to a young lady to
dance with, ask her to do so more than twice in the
same evening. A man may dance four or even five
times with the same partner. On the other hand, a
real well-bred man will wish to be useful, and there are
certain people whom it is imperative on him to ask to
dance&mdash;the daughters of the house, for instance, and
any young ladies whom he may know intimately; but
most of all the well-bred and amiable man will sacrifice
himself to those plain, ill-dressed, dull looking beings
who cling to the wall, unsought and despairing. After
all, he will not regret his good nature. The spirits reviving
at the unexpected invitation, the wall-flower will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">{99}</a></span>
pour out her best conversation, will dance her best, and
will show him her gratitude in some way or other.</p>

<p>“The formal bow at the end of a quadrille has gradually
dwindled away. At the end of every dance you
offer your right arm to your partner, (if by mistake you
offer the left, you may turn the blunder into a pretty
compliment, by reminding her that is <i>le bras du cœur</i>,
nearest the heart, which if not anatomically true, is, at
least, no worse than talking of a sunset and sunrise),
and walk half round the room with her. You then ask
her if she will take any refreshment, and, if she accepts,
you convey your precious allotment of tarlatane to the
refreshment room to be invigorated by an ice or negus,
or what you will. It is judicious not to linger too long
in this room, if you are engaged to some one else for
the next dance. You will have the pleasure of hearing
the music begin in the distant ball room, and of reflecting
that an expectant fair is sighing for you like Marianna&mdash;</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“He cometh not,” she said.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">She said, “I am a-weary a-weary,<br /></span>
<span class="i2">I would I were in bed;”<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>which is not an unfrequent wish in some ball rooms. A
well-bred girl, too, will remember this, and always offer
to return to the ball room, however interesting the conversation.</p>

<p>“If you are prudent you will not dance every dance,
nor in fact, much more than half the number on the list;
you will then escape that hateful redness of face at the
time, and that wearing fatigue the next day which are
among the worst features of a ball. Again, a gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">{100}</a></span>
must remember that a ball is essentially a lady’s party,
and in their presence he should be gentle and delicate
almost to a fault, never pushing his way, apologizing if
he tread on a dress, still more so if he tears it, begging
pardon for any accidental annoyance he may occasion,
and addressing every body with a smile. But quite unpardonable
are those men whom one sometimes meets,
who, standing in a door-way, talk and laugh as they
would in a barrack or college-rooms, always coarsely,
often indelicately. What must the state of their minds
be, if the sight of beauty, modesty, and virtue, does not
awe them into silence! A man, too, who strolls down
the room with his head in the air, looking as if there
were not a creature there worth dancing with, is an ill-bred
man, so is he who looks bored; and worse than all
is he who takes too much champagne.</p>

<p>“If you are dancing with a young lady when the supper-room
is opened, you must ask her if she would like
to go to supper, and if she says ‘yes,’ which, in 999
cases out of 1000, she certainly will do, you must take
her thither. If you are not dancing, the lady of the
house will probably recruit you to take in some chaperon.
However little you may relish this, you must not show
your disgust. In fact, no man ought to be disgusted at
being able to do anything for a lady; it should be his
highest privilege, but it is not&mdash;in these modern unchivalrous
days&mdash;perhaps never was so. Having placed
your partner then at the supper-table, if there is room
there, but if not at a side-table, or even at none, you
must be as active as Puck in attending to her wants,
and as women take as long to settle their fancies in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">{101}</a></span>
edibles as in love-matters, you had better at once get
her something substantial, chicken, <i>pâté de foie gras</i>,
<i>mayonnaise</i>, or what you will. Afterwards come jelly
and trifle in due course.</p>

<p>“A young lady often goes down half-a-dozen times to
the supper-room&mdash;it is to be hoped not for the purpose
of eating&mdash;but she should not do so with the same partner
more than once. While the lady is supping you
must stand by and talk to her, attending to every want,
and the most you may take yourself is a glass of champagne
when you help her. You then lead her up stairs
again, and if you are not wanted there any more, you
may steal down and do a little quiet refreshment on
your own account. As long, however, as there are many
ladies still at the table, you have no right to begin.
Nothing marks a man here so much as gorging at supper.
Balls are meant for dancing, not eating, and unfortunately
too many young men forget this in the present
day. Lastly, be careful what you say and how
you dance after supper, even more so than before it, for
if you in the slightest way displease a young lady, she
may fancy that you have been too partial to strong fluids,
and ladies never forgive that. It would be hard on the
lady of the house if every body leaving a large ball thought
it necessary to wish her good night. In quitting a small
dance, however, a parting bow is expected. It is then
that the pretty daughter of the house gives you that
sweet smile of which you dream afterwards in a gooseberry
nightmare of ‘tum-tum-tiddy-tum,’ and waltzes <i>à
deux temps</i>, and masses of tarlatane and bright eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">{102}</a></span>
flushed cheeks and dewy glances. See them to-morrow,
my dear fellow, it will cure you.</p>

<p>“I think flirtation comes under the head of morals
more than of manners; still I may be allowed to say
that ball room flirtation being more open is less dangerous
than any other. A prudent man will never presume
on a girl’s liveliness or banter. No man of taste ever
made an offer after supper, and certainly nine-tenths of
those who have done so have regretted it at breakfast
the next morning.</p>

<p>“At public balls there are generally either three or
four stewards on duty, or a professional master of ceremonies.
These gentlemen having made all the arrangements,
order the dances, and have power to change them
if desirable. They also undertake to present young
men to ladies, but it must be understood that such an
introduction is only available for <em>one</em> dance. It is better
taste to ask the steward to introduce you simply to a
partner, than to point out any lady in particular. He
will probably then ask you if you have a choice, and if
not, you may be certain he will take you to an established
wall-flower. Public balls are scarcely enjoyable
unless you have your own party.</p>

<p>“As the great charm of a ball is its perfect accord and
harmony, all altercations, loud talking, &amp;c., are doubly
ill-mannered in a ball room. Very little suffices to disturb
the peace of the whole company.”</p>

<p>The same author gives some hints upon dancing which
are so excellent that I need make no apology for quoting
them. He says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“‘Thank you&mdash;aw&mdash;I do not dance,’ is now a very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">{103}</a></span>
common reply from a well-dressed, handsome man, who
is leaning against the side of the door, to the anxious,
heated hostess, who feels it incumbent on her to find a
partner for poor Miss Wallflower. I say the reply is
not only common, but even regarded as rather a fine one
to make. In short, men of the present day don’t, won’t,
or can’t dance; and you can’t make them do it, except
by threatening to give them no supper. I really cannot
discover the reason for this aversion to an innocent
amusement, for the apparent purpose of enjoying which
they have spent an hour and a half on their toilet.
There is something, indeed, in the heat of a ball room,
there is a great deal in the ridiculous smallness of the
closets into which the ball-giver crowds two hundred
people, with a cruel indifference only equalled by that
of the black-hole of Calcutta, expecting them to enjoy
themselves, when the ladies’ dresses are crushed and
torn, and the gentlemen, under the despotism of theirs,
are melting away almost as rapidly as the ices with which
an occasional waiter has the heartlessness to insult
them. Then, again, it is a great nuisance to be introduced
to a succession of plain, uninteresting young
women, of whose tastes, modes of life, &amp;c., you have not
the slightest conception: who may look gay, yet have
never a thought beyond the curate and the parish, or
appear to be serious, while they understand nothing
but the opera and So-and-so’s ball&mdash;in fact, to be in
perpetual risk of either shocking their prejudices, or
plaguing them with subjects in which they can have no
possible interest; to take your chance whether they can
dance at all, and to know that when you have lighted on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">{104}</a></span>
a real charmer, perhaps the beauty of the room, she is
only lent to you for that dance, and, when that is over,
and you have salaamed away again, you and she must remain
to one another as if you had never met; to feel,
in short, that you must destroy either your present comfort
or future happiness, is certainly sufficiently trying
to keep a man close to the side-posts of the doorway.
But these are reasons which might keep him altogether
from a ball room, and, if he has these and other objections
to dancing, he certainly cannot be justified in coming
to a place set apart for that sole purpose.</p>

<p>“But I suspect that there are other reasons, and that,
in most cases, the individual can dance and does dance
at times, but has now a vulgar desire to be distinguished
from the rest of his sex present, and to appear indifferent
to the pleasures of the evening. If this be his laudable
desire, however he might, at least, be consistent, and
continue to cling to his door-post, like St. Sebastian to
his tree, and reply throughout the evening, ‘Thank you,
I don’t take refreshments;’ ‘Thank you, I can’t eat
supper;’ ‘Thank you, I don’t talk;’ ‘Thank you, I
don’t drink champagne,’&mdash;for if a ball room be purgatory,
what a demoniacal conflict does a supper-room present;
if young ladies be bad for the heart, champagne
is worse for the head.</p>

<p>“No, it is the will, not the power to dance which is
wanting, and to refuse to do so, unless for a really good
reason, is not the part of a well-bred man. To mar the
pleasure of others is obviously bad manners, and, though
at the door-post, you may not be in the way, you may
be certain that there are some young ladies longing to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">{105}</a></span>
dance, and expecting to be asked, and that the hostess
is vexed and annoyed by seeing them fixed, like pictures,
to the wall. It is therefore the duty of every man who
has no scruples about dancing, and purposes to appear
at balls, to learn how to dance.</p>

<p>“In the present day the art is much simplified, and
if you can walk through a quadrille, and perform a polka,
waltz, or galop, you may often dance a whole evening
through. Of course, if you can add to these the
Lancers, Schottische, and Polka-Mazurka, you will have
more variety, and can be more generally agreeable.
But if your master or mistress [a man learns better from
the former] has stuffed into your head some of the three
hundred dances which he tells you exist, the best thing
you can do is to forget them again. Whether right or
wrong, the number of usual dances is limited, and unusual
ones should be very sparingly introduced into a ball,
for as few people know them, their dancing, on the one
hand, becomes a mere display, and, on the other, interrupts
the enjoyment of the majority.</p>

<p>“The quadrille is pronounced to be essentially a conversational
dance, but, inasmuch as the figures are perpetually
calling you away from your partner, the first
necessity for dancing a quadrille is to be supplied with a
fund of small talk, in which you can go from subject to
subject like a bee from flower to flower. The next point
is to carry yourself uprightly. Time was when&mdash;as in
the days of the <i>minuet de la cour</i>&mdash;the carriage constituted
the dance. This is still the case with the quadrille,
in which, even if ignorant of the figures, you may
acquit yourself well by a calm, graceful carriage. After<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">{106}</a></span>
all, the most important figure is the <em>smile</em>, and the feet
may be left to their fate, if we know what to do with
our hands; of which I may observe that they should
never be pocketed.</p>

<p>“The smile is essential. A dance is supposed to
amuse, and nothing is more out of place in it than a
gloomy scowl, unless it be an ill-tempered frown. The
gaiety of a dance is more essential than the accuracy of
its figures, and if you feel none yourself, you may, at
least, look pleased by that of those around you. A defiant
manner is equally obnoxious. An acquaintance of
mine always gives me the impression, when he advances
in <i>l’été</i>, that he is about to box the lady who comes to
meet him. But the most objectionable of all is the supercilious
manner. Dear me, if you really think you do
your partner an honor in dancing with her, you should,
at least, remember that your condescension is annulled
by the manner in which you treat her.</p>

<p>“A lady&mdash;beautiful word!&mdash;is a delicate creature, one
who should be reverenced and delicately treated. It is,
therefore, unpardonable to rush about in a quadrille, to
catch hold of a lady’s hand as if it were a door-handle,
or to drag her furiously across the room, as if you were
Bluebeard and she Fatima, with the mysterious closet
opposite to you. This <i>brusque</i> violent style of dancing
is, unfortunately, common, but immediately stamps a
man. Though I would not have you wear a perpetual
simper, you should certainly smile when you take a
lady’s hand, and the old custom of bowing in doing so,
is one that we may regret; for, does she not confer an
honor on us by the action? To squeeze it, on the other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">{107}</a></span>
hand, is a gross familiarity, for which you would deserve
to be kicked out of the room.</p>

<p>“‘Steps,’ as the <i>chasser</i> of the quadrille is called, belong
to a past age, and even ladies are now content to
walk through a quadrille. It is, however, necessary to
keep time with the music, the great object being the
general harmony. To preserve this, it is also advisable,
where the quadrille, as is now generally the case, is
danced by two long lines of couples down the room, that
in <i>l’été</i>, and other figures, in which a gentleman and lady
advance alone to meet one another, none but gentlemen
should advance from the one side, and, therefore, none
but ladies from the other.</p>

<p>“Dancing masters find it convenient to introduce new
figures, and the fashion of <i>La Trénise</i> and the <i>Grande
Ronde</i> is repeatedly changing. It is wise to know the
last mode, but not to insist on dancing it. A quadrille
cannot go on evenly if any confusion arises from the
ignorance, obstinacy, or inattention of any one of the
dancers. It is therefore useful to know every way in
which a figure may be danced, and to take your cue
from the others. It is amusing, however, to find how
even such a trifle as a choice of figures in a quadrille
can help to mark caste, and give a handle for supercilious
sneers. Jones, the other day, was protesting that
the Browns were ‘vulgar.’ ‘Why so? they are well-bred.’
‘Yes, so they are.’ ‘They are well-informed.’
‘Certainly.’ ‘They are polite, speak good English,
dress quietly and well, are graceful and even elegant.’
‘I grant you all that.’ ‘Then what fault can you find
with them?’ ‘My dear fellow, they are people who gallop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">{108}</a></span>
round in the last figure of a quadrille,’ he replied,
triumphantly. But to a certain extent Jones is right.
Where a choice is given, the man of taste will always
select for a quadrille (as it is a conversational dance)
the quieter mode of performing a figure, and so the
Browns, if perfect in other respects, at least were wanting
in taste. There is one alteration lately introduced
from France, which I sincerely trust, will be universally
accepted. The farce of that degrading little performance
called ‘setting’&mdash;where you dance before your partner
somewhat like Man Friday before Robinson Crusoe, and
then as if your feelings were overcome, seize her hands
and whirl her round&mdash;has been finally abolished by a
decree of Fashion, and thus more opportunity is given
for conversation, and in a crowded room you have no
occasion to crush yourself and partner between the couples
on each side of you.</p>

<p>“I do not attempt to deny that the quadrille, as now
walked, is ridiculous; the figures, which might be graceful,
if performed in a lively manner, have entirely lost
their spirit, and are become a burlesque of dancing;
but, at the same time, it is a most valuable dance. Old
and young, stout and thin, good dancers and bad, lazy
and active, stupid and clever, married and single, can all
join in it, and have not only an excuse and opportunity
for <i>tête-à-tête</i> conversation, which is decidedly the easiest,
but find encouragement in the music, and in some
cases convenient breaks in the necessity of dancing. A
person of few ideas has time to collect them while the
partner is performing, and one of many can bring them
out with double effect. Lastly, if you wish to be polite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">{109}</a></span>
or friendly to an acquaintance who dances atrociously,
you can select a quadrille for him or her, as the case
may be.</p>

<p>“Very different in object and principle are the so-called
round dances, and there are great limitations as
to those who should join in them. Here the intention
is to enjoy a peculiar physical movement under peculiar
conditions, and the conversation during the intervals of
rest is only a secondary object. These dances demand
activity and lightness, and should therefore be, as a rule,
confined to the young. An old man sacrifices all his
dignity in a polka, and an old woman is ridiculous in a
waltz. Corpulency, too, is generally a great impediment,
though some stout people prove to be the lightest
dancers.</p>

<p>“The morality of round dances scarcely comes within
my province. They certainly can be made very indelicate;
so can any dance, and the French <i>cancan</i> proves
that the quadrille is no safer in this respect than the
waltz. But it is a gross insult to our daughters and
sisters to suppose them capable of any but the most innocent
and purest enjoyment in the dance, while of our
young men I will say, that to the pure all things are
pure. Those who see harm in it, are those in whose
mind evil thoughts must have arisen. <i>Honi soit qui mal
y pense.</i> Those who rail against dancing are perhaps not
aware that they do but follow in the steps of the Romish
Church. In many parts of the Continent, bishops who
have never danced in their lives, and perhaps never
seen a dance, have laid a ban of excommunication on
waltzing. A story was told to me in Normandy of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">{110}</a></span>
worthy Bishop of Bayeux, one of this number. A priest
of his diocese petitioned him to put down round dances.
‘I know nothing about them,’ replied the prelate, ‘I
have never seen a waltz.’ Upon this the younger ecclesiastic
attempted to explain what it was and wherein the
danger lay, but the bishop could not see it. ‘Will Monseigneur
permit me to show him?’ asked the priest.
‘Certainly. My chaplain here appears to understand the
subject; let me see you two waltz.’ How the reverend
gentlemen came to know so much about it does not appear,
but they certainly danced a polka, a gallop, and a <i>trois-temps</i>
waltz. ‘All these seem harmless enough.’ ‘Oh!
but Monseigneur has not seen the worst;’ and thereupon
the two gentlemen proceeded to flounder through a <i>valse
à deux-temps</i>. They must have murdered it terribly, for
they were not half round the room when his Lordship
cried out, ‘Enough, enough, that is atrocious, and deserves
excommunication.’ Accordingly this waltz was forbid,
while the other dances were allowed. I was at a public
ball at Caen soon after this occurrence, and was amused
to find the <i>trois-temps</i> danced with a peculiar shuffle, by
way of compromise between conscience and pleasure.</p>

<p>“There are people in this country whose logic is as
good as that of the Bishop of Bayeux, but I confess my
inability to understand it. If there is impropriety in
round dances, there is the same in all. But to the waltz,
which poets have praised and preachers denounced. The
French, with all their love of danger, waltz atrociously,
the English but little better; the Germans and Russians
alone understand it. I could rave through three pages
about the innocent enjoyment of a good waltz, its grace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">{111}</a></span>
and beauty, but I will be practical instead, and give you
a few hints on the subject.</p>

<p>“The position is the most important point. The lady
and gentleman before starting should stand exactly opposite
to one another, quite upright, and not, as is so
common, painfully close to one another. If the man’s
hand be placed where it should be, at the centre of the
lady’s waist, and not all round it, he will have as firm a
hold and not be obliged to stoop, or bend to his right.
The lady’s head should then be turned a little towards
her left shoulder, and her partner’s somewhat less towards
his right, in order to preserve the proper balance.
Nothing can be more atrocious than to see a lady lay
her head on her partner’s shoulder; but, on the other
hand, she will not dance well, if she turns it in the opposite
direction. The lady again should throw her head
and shoulders a little back, and the man lean a very
little forward.</p>

<p>“The position having been gained, the step is the
next question. In Germany the rapidity of the waltz is
very great, but it is rendered elegant by slackening the
pace every now and then, and thus giving a <i>crescendo</i>
and <i>decrescendo</i> time to the movement. The Russian
men undertake to perform in waltzing the same feat as
the Austrians in riding, and will dance round the room
with a glass of champagne in the left hand without spilling
a drop. This evenness in waltzing is certainly very
graceful, but can only be attained by a long sliding step,
which is little practised where the rooms are small, and
people, not understanding the real pleasure of dancing
well, insist on dancing all at the same time. In Germany<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">{112}</a></span>
they are so alive to the necessity of ample space,
that in large balls a rope is drawn across the room; its
two ends are held by the masters of the ceremonies <i>pro-tem.</i>,
and as one couple stops and retires, another is allowed
to pass under the rope and take its place. But
then in Germany they dance for the dancing’s sake.
However this may be, an even motion is very desirable,
and all the abominations which militate against it, such
as hop-waltzes, the Schottische, and ridiculous <i>Varsovienne</i>,
are justly put down in good society. The pace,
again, should not be sufficiently rapid to endanger other
couples. It is the gentleman’s duty to <em>steer</em>, and in
crowded rooms nothing is more trying. He must keep
his eyes open and turn them in every direction, if he
would not risk a collision, and the chance of a fall, or
what is as bad, the infliction of a wound on his partner’s
arm. I have seen a lady’s arm cut open in such a collision
by the bracelet of that of another lady; and the
sight is by no means a pleasant one in a ball room, to
say nothing of a new dress covered in a moment with
blood.</p>

<p>“The consequences of violent dancing may be really
serious. Not only do delicate girls bring on, thereby, a
violent palpitation of the heart, and their partners appear
in a most disagreeable condition of solution, but
dangerous falls ensue from it. I have known instances
of a lady’s head being laid open, and a gentleman’s foot
being broken in such a fall, resulting, poor fellow! in
lameness for life.</p>

<p>“It is, perhaps, useless to recommend flat-foot waltzing
in this country, where ladies allow themselves to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">{113}</a></span>
almost hugged by their partners, and where men think
it necessary to lift a lady almost off the ground, but I
am persuaded that if it were introduced, the outcry
against the impropriety of waltzing would soon cease.
Nothing can be more delicate than the way in which a
German holds his partner. It is impossible to dance on
the flat foot unless the lady and gentleman are quite free
of one another. His hand, therefore, goes no further
round her waist than to the hooks and eyes of her dress,
hers, no higher than to his elbow. Thus danced, the
waltz is smooth, graceful, and delicate, and we could
never in Germany complain of our daughter’s languishing
on a young man’s shoulder. On the other hand,
nothing is more graceless and absurd than to see a man
waltzing on the tips of his toes, lifting his partner off
the ground, or twirling round and round with her like
the figures on a street organ. The test of waltzing in
time is to be able to stamp the time with the left foot.
A good flat-foot waltzer can dance on one foot as well as
on two, but I would not advise him to try it in public,
lest, like Mr. Rarey’s horse on three legs, he should
come to the ground in a luckless moment. The legs
should be very little bent in dancing, the body still less
so. I do not know whether it be worse to see a man <em>sit
down</em> in a waltz, or to find him with his head poked forward
over your young wife’s shoulder, hot, red, wild, and
in far too close proximity to the partner of your bosom,
whom he makes literally the partner of his own.</p>

<p>“The ‘Lancers’ are a revival, after many long years,
and, perhaps, we may soon have a drawing-room adaptation
of the Morris-dance.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">{114}</a></span>
“The only advice, therefore, which it is necessary to
give to those who wish to dance the polka may be
summed up in one word, ‘don’t.’ Not so with the galop.
The remarks as to the position in waltzing apply to all
round dances, and there is, therefore, little to add with
regard to the galop, except that it is a great mistake to
suppose it to be a rapid dance. It should be danced as
slowly as possible. It will then be more graceful and
less fatiguing. It is danced quite slowly in Germany
and on the flat foot. The polka-mazurka is still much
danced, and is certainly very graceful. The remarks on
the quadrille apply equally to the lancers, which are great
favorites, and threaten to take the place of the former.
The schottische, hop-waltz, redowa, varsovienne, cellarius,
and so forth, have had their day, and are no longer
danced in good society.</p>

<p>“The calm ease which marks the man of good taste,
makes even the swiftest dances graceful and agreeable.
Vehemence may be excused at an election, but not in a
ball room. I once asked a beautiful and very clever
young lady how she, who seemed to pass her life with
books, managed to dance so well. ‘I enjoy it,’ she replied;
‘and when I dance I give my <em>whole mind</em> to it.’
And she was quite right. Whatever is worth doing at
all, is worth doing well; and if it is not beneath your
dignity to dance, it is not unworthy of your mind to
give itself, for the time, wholly up to it. You will never
enjoy dancing till you do it well; and, if you do not
enjoy it, it is folly to dance. But, in reality, dancing,
if it be a mere trifle, is one to which great minds have
not been ashamed to stoop. Locke, for instance, has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">{115}</a></span>
written on its utility, and speaks of it as manly, which
was certainly not Michal’s opinion, when she looked out
of the window and saw her lord and master dancing and
playing. Plato recommended it, and Socrates learned
the Athenian polka of the day when quite an old gentleman,
and liked it very much. Some one has even gone
the length of calling it ‘the logic of the body;’ and
Addison defends himself for making it the subject of a
disquisition.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">{116}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.<br />
<span class="sub">DRESS.</span></h2>

<p>Between the sloven and the coxcomb there is generally
a competition which shall be the more contemptible:
the one in the total neglect of every thing which might
make his appearance in public supportable, and the
other in the cultivation of every superfluous ornament.
The former offends by his negligence and dirt, and the
latter by his finery and perfumery. Each entertains a
supreme contempt for the other, and while both are
right in their opinion, both are wrong in their practice.
It is not in either extreme that the man of real elegance
and refinement will be shown, but in the happy medium
which allows taste and judgment to preside over the
wardrobe and toilet-table, while it prevents too great an
attention to either, and never allows personal appearance
to become the leading object of life.</p>

<p>The French have a proverb, “It is not the cowl which
makes the monk,” and it might be said with equal truth,
“It is not the dress which makes the gentleman,” yet,
as the monk is known abroad by his cowl, so the true
gentleman will let the refinement of his mind and education
be seen in his dress.</p>

<p>The first rule for the guidance of a man, in matters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">{117}</a></span>
of dress, should be, “Let the dress suit the occasion.”
It is as absurd for a man to go into the street in
the morning with his dress-coat, white kid gloves, and
dancing-boots, as it would be for a lady to promenade
the fashionable streets, in full evening dress, or for the
same man to present himself in the ball-room with heavy
walking-boots, a great coat, and riding-cap.</p>

<p>It is true that there is little opportunity for a gentleman
to exercise his taste for coloring, in the black and
white dress which fashion so imperatively declares to be
the proper dress for a <em>dress</em> occasion. He may indulge
in light clothes in the street during the warm months of
the year, but for the ball or evening party, black and
white are the only colors (or no colors) admissible, and
in the midst of the gay dresses of the ladies, the unfortunate
man in his sombre dress appears like a demon who
has found his way into Paradise among the angels.
<em>N’importe!</em> Men should be useful to the women, and
how can they be better employed than acting as a foil
for their loveliness of face and dress!</p>

<p>Notwithstanding the dress, however, a man may make
himself agreeable, even in the earthly Paradise, a ball-room.
He can rise above the mourning of his coat, to
the joyousness of the occasion, and make himself valued
for himself, not his dress. He can make himself admired
for his wit, not his toilette; his elegance and refinement,
not the price of his clothes.</p>

<p>There is another good rule for the dressing-room:
While you are engaged in dressing give your whole
attention to it. See that every detail is perfect, and
that each article is neatly arranged. From the curl of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">{118}</a></span>
your hair to the tip of your boot, let all be perfect in its
make and arrangement, but, as soon as you have left
your mirror, forget your dress. Nothing betokens the
coxcomb more decidedly than to see a man always fussing
about his dress, pulling down his wristbands, playing
with his moustache, pulling up his shirt collar, or arranging
the bow of his cravat. Once dressed, do not attempt
to alter any part of your costume until you are again in
the dressing-room.</p>

<p>In a gentleman’s dress any attempt to be conspicuous
is in excessively bad taste. If you are wealthy, let the
luxury of your dress consist in the fine quality of each
article, and in the spotless purity of gloves and linen,
but never wear much jewelry or any article conspicuous
on account of its money value. Simplicity should always
preside over the gentleman’s wardrobe.</p>

<p>Follow fashion as far as is necessary to avoid eccentricity
or oddity in your costume, but avoid the extreme
of the prevailing <i>mode</i>. If coats are worn long, yours
need not sweep the ground, if they are loose, yours may
still have some fitness for your figure; if pantaloons are
cut large over the boot, yours need not cover the whole
foot, if they are tight, you may still take room to walk.
Above all, let your figure and style of face have some
weight in deciding how far you are to follow fashion.
For a very tall man to wear a high, narrow-brimmed
hat, long-tailed coat, and tight pantaloons, with a pointed
beard and hair brushed up from the forehead, is not
more absurd than for a short, fat man, to promenade the
street in a low, broad-brimmed hat, loose coat and pants,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">{119}</a></span>
and the latter made of large plaid material, and yet burlesques
quite as broad may be met with every day.</p>

<p>An English writer, ridiculing the whims of Fashion,
says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“To be in the fashion, an Englishman must wear six
pairs of gloves in a day:</p>

<p>“In the morning, he must drive his hunting wagon in
reindeer gloves.</p>

<p>“In hunting, he must wear gloves of chamois skin.</p>

<p>“To enter London in his tilbury, beaver skin gloves.</p>

<p>“Later in the day, to promenade in Hyde Park, colored
kid gloves, dark.</p>

<p>“When he dines out, colored kid gloves, light.</p>

<p>“For the ball-room, white kid gloves.”</p>

<p>Thus his yearly bill for gloves alone will amount to a
most extravagant sum.</p>

<p>In order to merit the appellation of a well-dressed
man, you must pay attention, not only to the more prominent
articles of your wardrobe, coat, pants, and vest,
but to the more minute details. A shirtfront which fits
badly, a pair of wristbands too wide or too narrow, a
badly brushed hat, a shabby pair of gloves, or an ill-fitting
boot, will spoil the most elaborate costume. Purity
of skin, teeth, nails; well brushed hair; linen fresh and
snowy white, will make clothes of the coarsest material,
if well made, look more elegant, than the finest material
of cloth, if these details are neglected.</p>

<p>Frequent bathing, careful attention to the teeth,
nails, ears, and hair, are indispensable to a finished
toilette.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">{120}</a></span>
Use but very little perfume, much of it is in bad
taste.</p>

<p>Let your hair, beard, and moustache, be always perfectly
smooth, well arranged, and scrupulously clean.</p>

<p>It is better to clean the teeth with a piece of sponge,
or very soft brush, than with a stiff brush, and there is
no dentifrice so good as White Castile Soap.</p>

<p>Wear always gloves and boots, which fit well and are
fresh and whole. Soiled or torn gloves and boots ruin a
costume otherwise faultless.</p>

<p>Extreme propriety should be observed in dress. Be
careful to dress according to your means. Too great
saving is meanness, too great expense is extravagance.</p>

<p>A young man may follow the fashion farther than a
middle-aged or elderly man, but let him avoid going to
the extreme of the mode, if he would not be taken for
an empty headed fop.</p>

<p>It is best to employ a good tailor, as a suit of coarse
broadcloth which fits you perfectly, and is stylish in cut,
will make a more elegant dress than the finest material
badly made.</p>

<p>Avoid eccentricity; it marks, not the man of genius,
but the fool.</p>

<p>A well brushed hat, and glossy boots must be always
worn in the street.</p>

<p>White gloves are the only ones to be worn with full
dress.</p>

<p>A snuff box, watch, studs, sleeve-buttons, watch-chain,
and one ring are all the jewelry a well-dressed man can
wear.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">{121}</a></span>
An English author, in a recent work, gives the following
rules for a gentleman’s dress:</p>

<p>“The best bath for general purposes, and one which
can do little harm, and almost always some good, is a
sponge bath. It should consist of a large, flat metal
basin, some four feet in diameter, filled with cold water.
Such a vessel may be bought for about fifteen shillings.
A large, coarse sponge&mdash;the coarser the better&mdash;will cost
another five or seven shillings, and a few Turkish towels
complete the ‘properties.’ The water should be plentiful
and fresh, that is, brought up a little while before the
bath is to be used; not placed over night in the bed-room.
Let us wash and be merry, for we know not how
soon the supply of that precious article which here costs
nothing may be cut off. In many continental towns
they buy their water, and on a protracted sea voyage
the ration is often reduced to half a pint a day <em>for all
purposes</em>, so that a pint per diem is considered luxurious.
Sea-water, we may here observe, does not cleanse, and
a sensible man who bathes in the sea will take a bath of
pure water immediately after it. This practice is shamefully
neglected, and I am inclined to think that in many
cases a sea-bath will do more harm than good without
it, but, if followed by a fresh bath, cannot but be advantageous.</p>

<p>“Taking the sponge bath as the best for ordinary purposes,
we must point out some rules in its use. The
sponge being nearly a foot in length, and six inches
broad, must be allowed to fill completely with water, and
the part of the body which should be first attacked is
the stomach. It is there that the most heat has collected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">{122}</a></span>
during the night, and the application of cold
water quickens the circulation at once, and sends the
blood which has been employed in digestion round the
whole body. The head should next be soused, unless
the person be of full habit, when the head should be attacked
before the feet touch the cold water at all. Some
persons use a small hand shower bath, which is less powerful
than the common shower bath, and does almost as much
good. The use of soap in the morning bath is an open
question. I confess a preference for a rough towel, or
a hair glove. Brummell patronized the latter, and applied
it for nearly a quarter of an hour every morning.</p>

<p>“The ancients followed up the bath by anointing the
body, and athletic exercises. The former is a mistake;
the latter, an excellent practice, shamefully neglected in
the present day. It would conduce much to health and
strength if every morning toilet comprised the vigorous
use of the dumb-bells, or, still better, the exercise of the
arms without them. The best plan of all is, to choose
some object in your bed-room on which to vent your
hatred, and box at it violently for some ten minutes, till
the perspiration covers you. The sponge must then be
again applied to the whole body. It is very desirable
to remain without clothing as long as possible, and I
should therefore recommend that every part of the toilet
which can conveniently be performed without dressing,
should be so.</p>

<p>“The next duty, then, must be to clean the <em class="smcap">Teeth</em>.
Dentists are modern inquisitors, but their torture-rooms
are meant only for the foolish. Everybody is born with
good teeth, and everybody might keep them good by a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">{123}</a></span>
proper diet, and the avoidance of sweets and smoking.
Of the two the former are, perhaps, the more dangerous.
Nothing ruins the teeth so soon as sugar in one’s tea,
and highly sweetened tarts and puddings, and as it is <i>le
premier pas qui coûte</i>, these should be particularly
avoided in childhood. When the teeth attain their full
growth and strength it takes much more to destroy either
their enamel or their substance.</p>

<p>“It is upon the teeth that the effects of excess are first
seen, and it is upon the teeth that the odor of the breath
depends. If I may not say that it is a Christian duty
to keep your teeth clean, I may, at least, remind you
that you cannot be thoroughly agreeable without doing
so. Let words be what they may, if they come with an
impure odor, they cannot please. The butterfly loves
the scent of the rose more than its honey.</p>

<p>“The teeth should be well rubbed inside as well as
outside, and the back teeth even more than the front.
The mouth should then be rinsed, if not seven times, according
to the Hindu legislator, at least several times,
with fresh, cold water. This same process should be repeated
several times a day, since eating, smoking, and
so forth, naturally render the teeth and mouth dirty
more or less, and nothing can be so offensive, particularly
to ladies, whose sense of smell seems to be keener than
that of the other sex, and who can detect at your first
approach whether you have been drinking or smoking.
But, if only for your own comfort, you should brush
your teeth both morning and evening, which is quite
requisite for the preservation of their soundness and
color; while, if you are to mingle with others, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">{124}</a></span>
should be brushed, or, at least, the mouth well rinsed
after every meal, still more after smoking, or drinking
wine, beer, or spirits. No amount of general attractiveness
can compensate for an offensive odor in the
breath; and none of the senses is so fine a gentleman,
none so unforgiving, if offended, as that of smell.</p>

<p>“Strict attention must be paid to the condition of the
nails, and that both as regards cleaning and cutting.
The former is best done with a liberal supply of soap on
a small nail-brush, which should be used before every
meal, if you would not injure your neighbor’s appetite.
While the hand is still moist, the point of a small pen-knife
or pair of stumpy nail-scissors should be passed
under the nails so as to remove every vestige of dirt;
the skin should be pushed down with a towel, that the
white half-moon may be seen, and the finer skin removed
with the knife or scissors. Occasionally the edges of the
nails should be filed, and the hard skin which forms
round the corners of them cut away. The important
point in cutting the nails is to preserve the beauty of
their shape. That beauty, even in details, is worth preserving,
I have already remarked, and we may study it
as much in paring our nails, as in the grace of our attitudes,
or any other point. The shape, then, of the nail
should approach, as nearly as possible, to the oblong.
The length of the nail is an open question. Let it be
often cut, but always long, in my opinion. Above all,
let it be well cut, and <em>never</em> bitten.</p>

<p>“Perhaps you tell me these are childish details. Details,
yes, but not childish. The attention to details is
the true sign of a great mind, and he who can in necessity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">{125}</a></span>
consider the smallest, is the same man who can compass
the largest subjects. Is not life made up of details?
Must not the artist who has conceived a picture, descend
from the dream of his mind to mix colors on a palette?
Must not the great commander who is bowling down nations
and setting up monarchies care for the health and
comfort, the bread and beef of each individual soldier?
I have often seen a great poet, whom I knew personally,
counting on his fingers the feet of his verses, and fretting
with anything but poetic language, because he could
not get his sense into as many syllables. What if his
nails were dirty? Let genius talk of abstract beauty, and
philosophers dogmatize on order. If they do not keep
their nails clean, I shall call them both charlatans. The
man who really loves beauty will cultivate it in everything
around him. The man who upholds order is not
conscientious if he cannot observe it in his nails. The
great mind can afford to descend to details; it is only
the weak mind that fears to be narrowed by them.
When Napoleon was at Munich he declined the grand
four-poster of the Witelsbach family, and slept, as usual,
in his little camp-bed. The power to be little is a proof
of greatness.</p>

<p>“For the hands, ears, and neck we want something
more than the bath, and, as these parts are exposed and
really lodge fugitive pollutions, we cannot use too much
soap, or give too much trouble to their complete purification.
Nothing is lovelier than a woman’s small, white,
shell-like ear; few things reconcile us better to earth
than the cold hand and warm heart of a friend; but, to
complete the charm, the hand should be both clean and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">{126}</a></span>
soft. Warm water, a liberal use of the nail-brush, and
no stint of soap, produce this amenity far more effectually
than honey, cold cream, and almond paste. Of
wearing gloves I shall speak elsewhere, but for weak
people who are troubled with chilblains, they are indispensable
all the year round. I will add a good prescription
for the cure of chilblains, which are both a
disfigurement, and one of the <i>petites misères</i> of human
life.</p>

<p>“‘Roll the fingers in linen bandages, sew them up
well, and dip them twice or thrice a day in a mixture,
consisting of half a fluid ounce of tincture of capsicum,
and a fluid ounce of tincture of opium.’</p>

<p>“The person who invented razors libelled Nature, and
added a fresh misery to the days of man.</p>

<p>“Whatever <cite>Punch</cite> may say, the moustache and beard
movement is one in the right direction, proving that men
are beginning to appreciate beauty and to acknowledge
that Nature is the best valet. But it is very amusing to
hear men excusing their vanity on the plea of health,
and find them indulging in the hideous ‘Newgate frill’
as a kind of compromise between the beard and the
razor. There was a time when it was thought a presumption
and vanity to wear one’s own hair instead of
the frightful elaborations of the wig-makers, and the
false curls which Sir Godfrey Kneller did his best to
make graceful on canvas. Who knows that at some future
age some <cite>Punch</cite> of the twenty-first century may
not ridicule the wearing of one’s own teeth instead of
the dentist’s? At any rate Nature knows best, and no
man need be ashamed of showing his manhood in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">{127}</a></span>
hair of his face. Of razors and shaving, therefore, I
shall only speak from necessity, because, until everybody
is sensible on this point, they will still be used.</p>

<p>“Napoleon shaved himself. ‘A born king,’ said he,
‘has another to shave him. A made king can use his
own razor.’ But the war he made on his chin was very
different to that he made on foreign potentates. He
took a very long time to effect it, talking between whiles
to his hangers-on. The great man, however, was right,
and every sensible man will shave himself, if only as an
exercise of character, for a man should learn to live, in
every detail without assistance. Moreover, in most
cases, we shave ourselves better than barbers can do.
If we shave at all, we should do it thoroughly, and every
morning. Nothing, except a frown and a hay-fever,
makes the face look so unlovely as a chin covered with
short stubble. The chief requirements are hot water, a
large, soft brush of badger hair, a good razor, soft soap
that will not dry rapidly, and a steady hand. Cheap
razors are a fallacy. They soon lose their edge, and no
amount of stropping will restore it. A good razor needs
no strop. If you can afford it, you should have a case
of seven razors, one for each day of the week, so that
no one shall be too much used. There are now much
used packets of papers of a certain kind on which to
wipe the razor, and which keep its edge keen, and are a
substitute for the strop.</p>

<p>“Beards, moustaches, and whiskers, have always been
most important additions to the face. In the present
day literary men are much given to their growth, and in
that respect show at once their taste and their vanity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">{128}</a></span>
Let no man be ashamed of his beard, if it be well kept
and not fantastically cut. The moustache should be
kept within limits. The Hungarians wear it so long that
they can tie the ends round their heads. The style of
the beard should be adopted to suit the face. A broad
face should wear a large, full one; a long face is improved
by a sharp-pointed one. Taylor, the water poet, wrote
verses on the various styles, and they are almost numberless.
The chief point is to keep the beard well-combed
and in neat trim.</p>

<p>“As to whiskers, it is not every man who can achieve
a pair of full length. There is certainly a great vanity
about them, but it may be generally said that foppishness
should be avoided in this as in most other points. Above
all, the whiskers should never be curled, nor pulled out to
an absurd length. Still worse is it to cut them close with
the scissors. The moustache should be neat and not too
large, and such fopperies as cutting the points thereof,
or twisting them up to the fineness of needles&mdash;though
patronized by the Emperor of the French&mdash;are decidedly
a proof of vanity. If a man wear the hair on his face
which nature has given him, in the manner that nature
distributes it, keeps it clean, and prevents its overgrowth,
he cannot do wrong. All extravagances are vulgar,
because they are evidence of a pretence to being better
than you are; but a single extravagance unsupported is
perhaps worse than a number together, which have at
least the merit of consistency. If you copy puppies in
the half-yard of whisker, you should have their dress
and their manner too, if you would not appear doubly
absurd.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">{129}</a></span>
“The same remarks apply to the arrangement of the
hair in men, which should be as simple and as natural as
possible, but at the same time a little may be granted to
beauty and the requirements of the face. For my part
I can see nothing unmanly in wearing long hair, though
undoubtedly it is inconvenient and a temptation to vanity,
while its arrangement would demand an amount of time
and attention which is unworthy of a man. But every
nation and every age has had a different custom in this
respect, and to this day even in Europe the hair is sometimes
worn long. The German student is particularly
partial to hyacinthine locks curling over a black velvet
coat; and the peasant of Brittany looks very handsome,
if not always clean, with his love-locks hanging straight
down under a broad cavalier hat. Religion has generally
taken up the matter severely. The old fathers
preached and railed against wigs, the Calvinists raised
an insurrection in Bordeaux on the same account, and
English Roundheads consigned to an unmentionable
place every man who allowed his hair to grow according
to nature. The Romans condemned tresses as unmanly,
and in France in the middle ages the privilege to wear
them was confined to royalty. Our modern custom was
a revival of the French revolution, so that in this respect
we are now republican as well as puritanical.</p>

<p>“If we conform to fashion we should at least make the
best of it, and since the main advantage of short hair is
its neatness, we should take care to keep ours neat.
This should be done first by frequent visits to the barber,
for if the hair is to be short at all it should be very short,
and nothing looks more untidy than long, stiff, uncurled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">{130}</a></span>
masses sticking out over the ears. If it curls naturally
so much the better, but if not it will be easier to keep in
order. The next point is to wash the head every morning,
which, when once habitual, is a great preservative
against cold. A pair of large brushes, hard or soft, as
your case requires, should be used, not to hammer the
head with, but to pass up under the hair so as to reach
the roots. As to pomatum, Macassar, and other inventions
of the hair-dresser, I have only to say that, if used
at all, it should be in moderation, and never sufficiently
to make their scent perceptible in company. Of course
the arrangement will be a matter of individual taste, but
as the middle of the hair is the natural place for a parting,
it is rather a silly prejudice to think a man vain who
parts his hair in the centre. He is less blamable than
one who is too lazy to part it at all, and has always the
appearance of having just got up.</p>

<p>“Of wigs and false hair, the subject of satires and
sermons since the days of the Roman Emperors, I shall
say nothing here except that they are a practical falsehood
which may sometimes be necessary, but is rarely
successful. For my part I prefer the snows of life’s
winter to the best made peruke, and even a bald head to
an inferior wig.</p>

<p>“When gentlemen wore armor, and disdained the use
of their legs, an esquire was a necessity; and we can
understand that, in the days of the Beaux, the word
“gentleman” meant a man and his valet. I am glad to
say that in the present day it only takes one man to
make a gentleman, or, at most, a man and a ninth&mdash;that
is, including the tailor. It is an excellent thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">{131}</a></span>
for the character to be neat and orderly, and, if a man
neglects to be so in his room, he is open to the same
temptation sooner or later in his person. A dressing-case
is, therefore, a desideratum. A closet to hang up cloth
clothes, which should never be folded, and a small dressing-room
next to the bed-room, are not so easily attainable.
But the man who throws his clothes about the
room, a boot in one corner, a cravat in another, and his
brushes anywhere, is not a man of good habits. The
spirit of order should extend to everything about him.</p>

<p>“This brings me to speak of certain necessities of
dress; the first of which I shall take is appropriateness.
The age of the individual is an important consideration
in this respect; and a man of sixty is as absurd in the
style of nineteen as a young man in the high cravat of
Brummell’s day. I know a gallant colonel who is master
of the ceremonies in a gay watering-place, and who,
afraid of the prim old-fashioned <i>tournure</i> of his <i>confrères</i>
in similar localities, is to be seen, though his hair is gray
and his age not under five-and-sixty, in a light cut-away,
the ‘peg-top’ continuations, and a turned-down collar.
It may be what younger blades will wear when they
reach his age, but in the present day the effect is ridiculous.
We may, therefore, give as a general rule, that
after the turning-point of life a man should eschew the
changes of fashion in his own attire, while he avoids
complaining of it in the young. In the latter, on the
other hand, the observance of these changes must depend
partly on his taste and partly on his position. If
wise, he will adopt with alacrity any new fashions which
improve the grace, the ease, the healthfulness, and the convenience<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">{132}</a></span>
of his garments. He will be glad of greater freedom
in the cut of his cloth clothes, of boots with elastic sides
instead of troublesome buttons or laces, of the privilege
to turn down his collar, and so forth, while he will avoid
as extravagant, elaborate shirt-fronts, gold bindings on
the waistcoat, and expensive buttons. On the other
hand, whatever his age, he will have some respect to his
profession and position in society. He will remember
how much the appearance of the man aids a judgment
of his character, and this test, which has often been cried
down, is in reality no bad one; for a man who does not
dress appropriately evinces a want of what is most necessary
to professional men&mdash;tact and discretion.</p>

<p>“Position in society demands appropriateness. Well
knowing the worldly value of a good coat, I would yet
never recommend a man of limited means to aspire to
a fashionable appearance. In the first place, he becomes
thereby a walking falsehood; in the second, he cannot,
without running into debt, which is another term for dishonesty,
maintain the style he has adopted. As he cannot
afford to change his suits as rapidly as fashion alters,
he must avoid following it in varying details. He will
rush into wide sleeves one month, in the hope of being
fashionable, and before his coat is worn out, the next
month will bring in a narrow sleeve. We cannot, unfortunately,
like Samuel Pepys, take a long cloak now-a-days
to the tailor’s, to be cut into a short one, ‘long
cloaks being now quite out,’ as he tells us. Even when
there is no poverty in the case, our position must not
be forgotten. The tradesman will win neither customers
nor friends by adorning himself in the mode of the club-lounger,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">{133}</a></span>
and the clerk, or commercial traveler, who
dresses fashionably, lays himself open to inquiries as to
his antecedents, which he may not care to have investigated.
In general, it may be said that there is vulgarity
in dressing like those of a class above us, since it must
be taken as a proof of pretension.</p>

<p>“As it is bad taste to flaunt the airs of the town
among the provincials, who know nothing of them, it is
worse taste to display the dress of a city in the quiet
haunts of the rustics. The law, that all attempts at distinction
by means of dress is vulgar and pretentious,
would be sufficient argument against wearing city fashions
in the country.</p>

<p>“While in most cases a rougher and easier mode of
dress is both admissible and desirable in the country,
there are many occasions of country visiting where a
town man finds it difficult to decide. It is almost peculiar
to the country to unite the amusements of the daytime
with those of the evening; of the open air with
those of the drawing-room. Thus, in the summer, when
the days are long, you will be asked to a pic-nic or an
archery party, which will wind up with dancing in-doors,
and may even assume the character of a ball. If you
are aware of this beforehand, it will always be safe to
send your evening dress to your host’s house, and you
will learn from the servants whether others have done
the same, and whether, therefore, you will not be singular
in asking leave to change your costume. But if you
are ignorant how the day is to end, you must be guided
partly by the hour of invitation, and partly by the extent
of your intimacy with the family. I have actually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">{134}</a></span>
known gentlemen arrive at a large pic-nic at mid-day in
complete evening dress, and pitied them with all my
heart, compelled as they were to suffer, in tight black
clothes, under a hot sun for eight hours, and dance after
all in the same dress. On the other hand, if you are
asked to come an hour or two before sunset, after six in
summer, in the autumn after five, you cannot err by
appearing in evening dress. It is always taken as a
compliment to do so, and if your acquaintance with your
hostess is slight, it would be almost a familiarity to do
otherwise. In any case you desire to avoid singularity,
so that if you can discover what others who are invited
intend to wear, you can always decide on your own
attire. In Europe there is a convenient rule for these
matters; never appear after four in the afternoon in
morning dress; but then gray trousers are there allowed
instead of black, and white waistcoats are still worn in
the evening. At any rate, it is possible to effect a compromise
between the two styles of costume, and if you
are likely to be called upon to dance in the evening, it
will be well to wear thin boots, a black frock-coat, and
a small black neck-tie, and to put a pair of clean white
gloves in your pocket. You will thus be at least less
conspicuous in the dancing-room than in a light tweed
suit.</p>

<p>“Not so the distinction to be made according to size.
As a rule, tall men require long clothes&mdash;some few perhaps
even in the nurse’s sense of those words&mdash;and short
men short clothes. On the other hand, Falstaff should
beware of Jenny Wren coats and affect ample wrappers,
while Peter Schlemihl, and the whole race of thin men,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">{135}</a></span>
must eschew looseness as much in their garments as their
morals.</p>

<p>“Lastly we come to what is appropriate to different
occasions, and as this is an important subject, I shall
treat of it separately. For the present it is sufficient to
point out that, while every man should avoid not only
extravagance, but even brilliance of dress on ordinary
occasions, there are some on which he may and ought to
pay more attention to his toilet, and attempt to look gay.
Of course, the evenings are not here meant. For evening
dress there is a fixed rule, from which we can depart
only to be foppish or vulgar; but in morning dress there
is greater liberty, and when we undertake to mingle with
those who are assembled avowedly for gayety, we should
not make ourselves remarkable by the dinginess of our
dress. Such occasions are open air entertainments,
<i>fêtes</i>, flower-shows, archery-meetings, <i>matinées</i>, and <i>id
genus omne</i>, where much of the pleasure to be derived depends
on the general effect on the enjoyers, and where,
if we cannot pump up a look of mirth, we should, at
least, if we go at all, wear the semblance of it in our
dress. I have a worthy little friend, who, I believe, is
as well disposed to his kind as Lord Shaftesbury himself,
but who, for some reason, perhaps a twinge of philosophy
about him, frequents the gay meetings to which he is
asked in an old coat and a wide-awake. Some people
take him for a wit, but he soon shows that he does not
aspire to that character; others for a philosopher, but he
is too good-mannered for that; others, poor man! pronounce
him a cynic, and all are agreed that whatever
he may be, he looks out of place, and spoils the general<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">{136}</a></span>
effect. I believe, in my heart, that he is the mildest of
men, but will not take the trouble to dress more than
once a day. At any rate, he has a character for eccentricity,
which, I am sure, is precisely what he would wish
to avoid. That character is a most delightful one for a
bachelor, and it is generally Cœlebs who holds it, for it
has been proved by statistics that there are four single
to one married man among the inhabitants of our madhouses;
but eccentricity yields a reputation which requires
something to uphold it, and even in Diogenes of
the Tub it was extremely bad taste to force himself into
Plato’s evening party without sandals, and nothing but
a dirty tunic on him.</p>

<p>“Another requisite in dress is its simplicity, with
which I may couple harmony of color. This simplicity
is the only distinction which a man of taste should aspire
to in the matter of dress, but a simplicity in appearance
must proceed from a nicety in reality. One
should not be simply ill-dressed, but simply well-dressed.
Lord Castlereagh would never have been pronounced the
most distinguished man in the gay court of Vienna, because
he wore no orders or ribbons among hundreds
decorated with a profusion of those vanities, but because
besides this he was dressed with taste. The charm of
Brummell’s dress was its simplicity; yet it cost him as
much thought, time, and care as the portfolio of a minister.
The rules of simplicity, therefore, are the rules
of taste. All extravagance, all splendor, and all profusion
must be avoided. The colors, in the first place,
must harmonize both with our complexion and with one
another; perhaps most of all with the color of our hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">{137}</a></span>
All bright colors should be avoided, such as red, yellow,
sky-blue, and bright green. Perhaps only a successful
Australian gold digger would think of choosing such
colors for his coat, waistcoat, or trousers; but there are
hundreds of young men who might select them for their
gloves and neck-ties. The deeper colors are, some how
or other, more manly, and are certainly less striking.
The same simplicity should be studied in the avoidance
of ornamentation. A few years ago it was the fashion
to trim the evening waistcoat with a border of gold lace.
This is an example of fashions always to be rebelled
against. Then, too, extravagance in the form of our
dress is a sin against taste. I remember that long ribbons
took the place of neck-ties some years ago. At a
commemoration, two friends of mine determined to cut a
figure in this matter, having little else to distinguish
them. The one wore two yards of bright pink; the
other the same quantity of bright blue ribbon, round
their necks. I have reason to believe they think now
that they both looked superbly ridiculous. In the same
way, if the trousers are worn wide, we should not wear
them as loose as a Turk’s; or, if the sleeves are to be
open, we should not rival the ladies in this matter. And
so on through a hundred details, generally remembering
that to exaggerate a fashion is to assume a character,
and therefore vulgar. The wearing of jewelry comes
under this head. Jewels are an ornament to women,
but a blemish to men. They bespeak either effeminacy
or a love of display. The hand of a man is honored in
working, for labor is his mission; and the hand that
wears its riches on its fingers, has rarely worked honestly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">{138}</a></span>
to win them. The best jewel a man can wear is his
honor. Let that be bright and shining, well set in prudence,
and all others must darken before it. But as we
are savages, and must have some silly trickery to hang
about us, a little, but very little concession may be made
to our taste in this respect. I am quite serious when I
disadvise you from the use of nose-rings, gold anklets, and
hat-bands studded with jewels; for when I see an incredulous
young man of the nineteenth century, dangling
from his watch-chain a dozen silly ‘charms’ (often the
only ones he possesses), which have no other use than to
give a fair coquette a legitimate subject on which to approach
to closer intimacy, and which are revived from
the lowest superstitions of dark ages, and sometimes
darker races, I am quite justified in believing that some
South African chieftain, sufficiently rich to cut a dash,
might introduce with success the most peculiar fashions
of his own country. However this may be, there are already
sufficient extravagances prevalent among our
young men to attack.</p>

<p>“The man of good taste will wear as little jewelry as
possible. One handsome signet-ring on the little finger
of the left hand, a scarf-pin which is neither large, nor
showy, nor too intricate in its design, and a light, rather
thin watch-guard with a cross-bar, are all that he ought
to wear. But, if he aspires to more than this, he should
observe the following rules:&mdash;</p>

<p>“1. Let everything be real and good. False jewelry is
not only a practical lie, but an absolute vulgarity, since
its use arises from an attempt to appear richer or grander
than its wearer is.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">{139}</a></span>
“2. Let it be simple. Elaborate studs, waistcoat-buttons,
and wrist-links, are all abominable. The last, particularly,
should be as plain as possible, consisting of plain
gold ovals, with, at most, the crest engraved upon them.
Diamonds and brilliants are quite unsuitable to men,
whose jewelry should never be conspicuous. If you
happen to possess a single diamond of great value you
may wear it on great occasions as a ring, but no more
than one ring should ever be worn by a gentleman.</p>

<p>“3. Let it be distinguished rather by its curiosity than
its brilliance. An antique or bit of old jewelry possesses
more interest, particularly if you are able to tell
its history, than the most splendid production of the
goldsmith’s shop.</p>

<p>“4. Let it harmonize with the colors of your dress.</p>

<p>“5. Let it have some use. Men should never, like
women, wear jewels for mere ornament, whatever may
be the fashion of Hungarian noblemen, and deposed Indian
rajahs with jackets covered with rubies.</p>

<p>“The precious stones are reserved for ladies, and
even our scarf-pins are more suitable without them.</p>

<p>“The dress that is both appropriate and simple can
never offend, nor render its wearer conspicuous, though
it may distinguish him for his good taste. But it will
not be pleasing unless clean and fresh. We cannot
quarrel with a poor gentleman’s thread-bare coat, if his
linen be pure, and we see that he has never attempted
to dress beyond his means or unsuitably to his station.
But the sight of decayed gentility and dilapidated fashion
may call forth our pity, and, at the same time prompt a
moral: ‘You have evidently sunken;’ we say to ourselves;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">{140}</a></span>
‘But whose fault was it? Am I not led to suppose
that the extravagance which you evidently once
revelled in has brought you to what I now see you?’
While freshness is essential to being well-dressed, it will
be a consolation to those who cannot afford a heavy
tailor’s bill, to reflect that a visible newness in one’s
clothes is as bad as patches and darns, and to remember
that there have been celebrated dressers who would never
put on a new coat till it had been worn two or three
times by their valets. On the other hand, there is no
excuse for untidiness, holes in the boots, a broken hat,
torn gloves, and so on. Indeed, it is better to wear no
gloves at all than a pair full of holes. There is nothing
to be ashamed of in bare hands, if they are clean, and
the poor can still afford to have their shirts and shoes
mended, and their hats ironed. It is certainly better to
show signs of neatness than the reverse, and you need
sooner be ashamed of a hole than a darn.</p>

<p>“Of personal cleanliness I have spoken at such length
that little need be said on that of the clothes. If you
are economical with your tailor, you can be extravagant
with your laundress. The beaux of forty years back
put on three shirts a day, but except in hot weather one
is sufficient. Of course, if you change your dress in the
evening you must change your shirt too. There has
been a great outcry against colored flannel shirts in the
place of linen, and the man who can wear one for three
days is looked on as little better than St. Simeon Stylites.
I should like to know how often the advocates of
linen change their own under-flannel, and whether the
same rule does not apply to what is seen as to what is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">{141}</a></span>
concealed. But while the flannel is perhaps healthier
as absorbing the moisture more rapidly, the linen has
the advantage of <em>looking</em> cleaner, and may therefore be
preferred. As to economy, if the flannel costs less to
wash, it also wears out sooner; but, be this as it may, a
man’s wardrobe is not complete without half a dozen or
so of these shirts, which he will find most useful, and ten
times more comfortable than linen in long excursions, or
when exertion will be required. Flannel, too, has the
advantage of being warm in winter and cool in summer,
for, being a non-conductor, but a retainer of heat, it protects
the body from the sun, and, on the other hand,
shields it from the cold. But the best shirt of all, particularly
in winter, is that which wily monks and hermits
pretended to wear for a penance, well knowing that
they could have no garment cooler, more comfortable,
or more healthy. I mean, of course, the rough hair-shirt.
Like flannel, it is a non-conductor of heat; but
then, too, it acts the part of a shampooer, and with its
perpetual friction soothes the surface of the skin, and
prevents the circulation from being arrested at any one
point of the body. Though I doubt if any of my readers
will take a hint from the wisdom of the merry anchorites,
they will perhaps allow me to suggest that the
next best thing to wear next the skin is flannel, and that
too of the coarsest description.</p>

<p>“Quantity is better than quality in linen. Nevertheless
it should be fine and well spun. The loose cuff,
which we borrowed from the French some four years
ago, is a great improvement on the old tight wrist-band,
and, indeed, it must be borne in mind that anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">{142}</a></span>
which binds any part of the body tightly impedes the
circulation, and is therefore unhealthy as well as ungraceful.</p>

<p>“The necessity for a large stock of linen depends on
a rule far better than Brummell’s, of three shirts a day,
viz:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Change your linen whenever it is at all dirty.</p>

<p>“This is the best guide with regard to collars, socks,
pocket-handkerchiefs, and our under garments. No
rule can be laid down for the number we should wear
per week, for everything depends on circumstances.
Thus in the country all our linen remains longer clean
than in town; in dirty, wet, or dusty weather, our socks
get soon dirty and must be changed; or, if we have a
cold, to say nothing of the possible but not probable
case of tear-shedding on the departure of friends, we
shall want more than one pocket-handkerchief per
diem. In fact, the last article of modern civilization is
put to so many uses, is so much displayed, and liable to
be called into action on so many various engagements,
that we should always have a clean one in our pockets.
Who knows when it may not serve us is in good stead?
Who can tell how often the corner of the delicate cambric
will have to represent a tear which, like difficult
passages in novels is ‘left to the imagination.’ Can a
man of any feeling call on a disconsolate widow, for instance,
and listen to her woes, without at least pulling
out that expressive appendage? Can any one believe
in our sympathy if the article in question is a dirty one?
There are some people who, like the clouds, only exist
to weep; and King Solomon, though not one of them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">{143}</a></span>
has given them great encouragement in speaking of the
house of mourning. We are bound to weep with them,
and we are bound to weep elegantly.</p>

<p>“A man whose dress is neat, clean, simple, and appropriate,
will pass muster anywhere.</p>

<p>“A well-dressed man does not require so much an
extensive as a varied wardrobe. He wants a different
costume for every season and every occasion; but if
what he selects is simple rather than striking, he may
appear in the same clothes as often as he likes, as long
as they are fresh and appropriate to the season and the
object. There are four kinds of coats which he must
have: a morning-coat, a frock-coat, a dress-coat, and an
over-coat. An economical man may do well with four
of the first, and one of each of the others per annum.
The dress of a gentleman in the present day should not
cost him more than the tenth part of his income on an
average. But as fortunes vary more than position, if
his income is large it will take a much smaller proportion,
if small a larger one. If a man, however, mixes in
society, and I write for those who do so, there are some
things which are indispensable to even the proper dressing,
and every occasion will have its proper attire.</p>

<p>“In his own house then, and in the morning, there is
no reason why he should not wear out his old clothes.
Some men take to the delightful ease of a dressing-gown
and slippers; and if bachelors, they do well. If family
men, it will probably depend on whether the lady or the
gentleman wears the pantaloons. The best walking-dress
for a non-professional man is a suit of tweed of the
same color, ordinary boots, gloves not too dark for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">{144}</a></span>
coat, a scarf with a pin in winter, or a small tie of one
color in summer, a respectable black hat and a cane. The
last item is perhaps the most important, and though its
use varies with fashion, I confess I am sorry when I see
it go out. The best substitute for a walking-stick is an
umbrella, <em>not</em> a parasol unless it be given you by a lady
to carry. The main point of the walking-dress is the
harmony of colors, but this should not be carried to the
extent of M. de Maltzan, who some years ago made a
bet to wear nothing but pink at Baden-Baden for a
whole year, and had boots and gloves of the same lively
hue. He won his wager, but also the soubriquet of ‘Le
Diable enflammé.’ The walking-dress should vary according
to the place and hour. In the country or at
the sea-side a straw hat or wide-awake may take the
place of the beaver, and the nuisance of gloves be even
dispensed with in the former. But in the city where a
man is supposed to make visits as well as lounge in the
street, the frock coat of very dark blue or black, or a
black cloth cut-away, the white waistcoat, and lavender
gloves, are almost indispensable. Very thin boots should
be avoided at all times, and whatever clothes one wears
they should be well brushed. The shirt, whether seen
or not, should be quite plain. The shirt collar should
never have a color on it, but it may be stiff or turned
down according as the wearer is Byronically or Brummellically
disposed. The scarf, if simple and of modest
colors, is perhaps the best thing we can wear round the
neck; but if a neck-tie is preferred it should not be too
long, nor tied in too stiff and studied a manner. The
cane should be extremely simple, a mere stick in fact,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">{145}</a></span>
with no gold head, and yet for the town not rough, thick,
or clumsy. The frock-coat should be ample and loose,
and a tall well-built man may throw it back. At any
rate, it should never be buttoned up. Great-coats should
be buttoned up, of a dark color, not quite black, longer
than the frock-coat, but never long enough to reach the
ankles. If you have visits to make you should do away
with the great-coat, if the weather allows you to do so.
The frock-coat, or black cut-away, with a white waistcoat
in summer, is the best dress for making calls in.</p>

<p>“It is simple nonsense to talk of modern civilization,
and rejoice that the cruelties of the dark ages can never
be perpetrated in these days and this country. I maintain
that they are perpetrated freely, generally, daily,
with the consent of the wretched victim himself, in the
compulsion to wear evening clothes. Is there anything
at once more comfortless or more hideous? Let us begin
with what the delicate call limb-covers, which we are
told were the invention of the Gauls, but I am inclined
to think, of a much worse race, for it is clearly an anachronism
to ascribe the discovery to a Venetian called
Piantaleone, and it can only have been Inquisitors or
demons who inflicted this scourge on the race of man,
and his ninth-parts, the tailors, for I take it that both
are equally bothered by the tight pantaloon. Let us
pause awhile over this unsightly garment, and console
ourselves with the reflection that as every country, and
almost every year, has a different fashion in its make of
it, we may at last be emancipated from it altogether, or
at least be able to wear it <i>à la Turque</i>.</p>

<p>“But it is not all trousers that I rebel against. If<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">{146}</a></span>
I might wear linen appendices in summer, and fur continuations
in winter, I would not groan, but it is the
evening-dress that inflicts on the man who likes society
the necessity of wearing the same trying cloth all the
year round, so that under Boreas he catches colds, and
under the dog-star he melts. This unmentionable, but
most necessary disguise of the ‘human form divine,’ is
one that never varies in this country, and therefore I
must lay down the rule:&mdash;</p>

<p>“For all evening wear&mdash;black cloth trousers.</p>

<p>“But the tortures of evening dress do not end with
our lower limbs. Of all the iniquities perpetrated under
the Reign of Terror, none has lasted so long as that of
the strait-jacket, which was palmed off on the people as
a ‘habit de compagnie.’ If it were necessary to sing a
hymn of praise to Robespierre, Marat, and Co., I would
rather take the guillotine as my subject to extol than the
swallow tail. And yet we endure the stiffness, unsightliness,
uncomfortableness, and want of grace of the latter,
with more resignation than that with which Charlotte
Corday put her beautiful neck into the ‘trou d’enfer’
of the former. Fortunately modern republicanism
has triumphed over ancient etiquette, and the tail-coat
of to-day is looser and more easy than it was twenty
years ago. I can only say, let us never strive to make
it bearable, till we have abolished it. Let us abjure
such vulgarities as silk collars, white silk linings, and so
forth, which attempt to beautify this monstrosity, as a
hangman might wreathe his gallows with roses. The
plainer the manner in which you wear your misery, the
better.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">{147}</a></span>
“Then, again, the black waistcoat, stiff, tight, and
comfortless. Fancy Falstaff in a ball-dress such as we
now wear. No amount of embroidery, gold-trimmings,
or jewel-buttons will render such an infliction grateful
to the mass. The best plan is to wear thorough mourning
for your wretchedness. In France and America,
the cooler white waistcoat is admitted. However, as we
have it, let us make the best of it, and not parade our
misery by hideous ornamentation. The only evening
waistcoat for all purposes for a man of taste is one of
simple black, with the simplest possible buttons.</p>

<p>“These three items never vary for dinner-party, muffin-worry,
or ball. The only distinction allowed is in the
neck-tie. For dinner, the opera, and balls, this must be
white, and the smaller the better. It should be too, of
a washable texture, not silk, nor netted, nor hanging
down, nor of any foppish production, but a simple, white
tie, without embroidery. The black tie is admitted for
evening parties, and should be equally simple. The
shirt-front, which figures under the tie should be plain,
with unpretending small plaits. The glove must be
white, not yellow. Recently, indeed, a fashion has
sprung up of wearing lavender gloves in the evening.
They are economical, and as all economy is an abomination,
must be avoided. Gloves should always be worn
at a ball. At a dinner-party in town they should be
worn on entering the room, and drawn off for dinner.
While, on the one hand, we must avoid the awkwardness
of a gallant sea-captain who, wearing no gloves at a
dance, excused himself to his partner by saying, ‘Never
mind, miss, I can wash my hands when I’ve done dancing,’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">{148}</a></span>
we have no need, in the present day, to copy the
Roman gentleman mentioned by Athenæus, who wore
gloves at dinner that he might pick his meat from the
hot dishes more rapidly than the bare-handed guests.
As to gloves at tea-parties and so forth, we are generally
safer with than without them. If it is quite a small
party, we may leave them in our pocket, and in the
country they are scarcely expected to be worn; but
‘touch not a cat but with a glove;’ you are always safer
with them.</p>

<p>“I must not quit this subject without assuring myself
that my reader knows more about it now than he did before.
In fact I have taken one thing for granted, viz.,
that he knows what it is to be dressed, and what undressed.
Of course I do not suppose him to be in the
blissful state of ignorance on the subject once enjoyed
by our first parents. I use the words ‘dressed’ and ‘undressed’
rather in the sense meant by a military tailor,
or a cook with reference to a salad. You need not be
shocked. I am one of those people who wear spectacles
for fear of seeing anything with the naked eye. I am
the soul of scrupulosity. But I am wondering whether
everybody arranges his wardrobe as our ungrammatical
nurses used to do ours, under the heads of ‘best, second-best,
third-best,’ and so on, and knows what things ought
to be placed under each. To be ‘undressed’ is to be
dressed for work and ordinary occupations, to wear a
coat which you do not fear to spoil, and a neck-tie which
your ink-stand will not object to, but your acquaintance
might. To be ‘dressed,’ on the other hand, since by
dress we show our respect for society at large, or the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">{149}</a></span>
persons with whom we are to mingle, is to be clothed in
the garments which the said society pronounces as suitable
to particular occasions; so that evening dress in the
morning, morning dress in the evening, and top boots
and a red coat for walking, may all be called ‘undress,’
if not positively ‘bad dress.’ But there are shades of
being ‘dressed;’ and a man is called ‘little dressed,’
‘well dressed,’ and ‘much dressed,’ not according to the
quantity but the quality of his coverings.</p>

<p>“To be ‘little dressed,’ is to wear old things, of a
make that is no longer the fashion, having no pretension
to elegance, artistic beauty, or ornament. It is also to
wear lounging clothes on occasions which demand some
amount of precision. To be ‘much dressed’ is to be in
the extreme of the fashion, with bran new clothes,
jewelry, and ornaments, with a touch of extravagance
and gaiety in your colors. Thus to wear patent leather
boots and yellow gloves in a quiet morning stroll is to
be much dressed, and certainly does not differ immensely
from being badly dressed. To be ‘well dressed’ is the
happy medium between these two, which is not given to
every one to hold, inasmuch as good taste is rare, and is
a <i>sine quâ non</i> thereof. Thus while you avoid ornament
and all fastness, you must cultivate fashion, that is <em>good</em>
fashion, in the make of your clothes. A man must not
be made by his tailor, but should make him, educate him,
give him his own good taste. To be well dressed is to
be dressed precisely as the occasion, place, weather, your
height, figure, position, age, and, remember it, your
<em>means</em> require. It is to be clothed without peculiarity,
pretension, or eccentricity; without violent colors, elaborate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">{150}</a></span>
ornament, or senseless fashions, introduced, often,
by tailors for their own profit. Good dressing is to wear
as little jewelry as possible, to be scrupulously neat,
clean, and fresh, and to carry your clothes as if you did
not give them a thought.</p>

<p>“Then, too, there is a scale of honor among clothes,
which must not be forgotten. Thus, a new coat is more
honorable than an old one, a cut-away or shooting-coat
than a dressing-gown, a frock-coat than a cut-away, a
dark blue frock-coat than a black frock-coat, a tail-coat
than a frock-coat. There is no honor at all in a blue
tail-coat, however, except on a gentleman of eighty, accompanied
with brass buttons and a buff waistcoat.
There is more honor in an old hunting-coat than in a
new one, in a uniform with a bullet hole in it than one
without, in a fustian jacket and smock-frock than in a
frock-coat, because they are types of labor, which is far
more honorable than lounging. Again, light clothes are
generally placed above dark ones, because they cannot
be so long worn, and are, therefore, proofs of expenditure,
<i>alias</i> money, which in this world is a commodity
more honored than every other; but, on the other
hand, tasteful dress is always more honorable than that
which has only cost much. Light gloves are more esteemed
than dark ones, and the prince of glove-colors is,
undeniably, lavender.</p>

<p>“‘I should say Jones was a fast man,’ said a friend to
me one day, ‘for he wears a white hat.’ If this idea of
my companion’s be right, fastness may be said to consist
mainly in peculiarity. There is certainly only one step
from the sublimity of fastness to the ridiculousness of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">{151}</a></span>
snobbery, and it is not always easy to say where the
one ends and the other begins. A dandy, on the other
hand, is the clothes on a man, not a man in clothes, a
living lay figure who displays much dress, and is quite
satisfied if you praise it without taking heed of him. A
bear is in the opposite extreme; never dressed enough,
and always very roughly; but he is almost as bad as the
other, for he sacrifices everything to his ease and comfort.
The off-hand style of dress only suits an off-hand
character. It was, at one time, the fashion to affect a
certain negligence, which was called poetic, and supposed
to be the result of genius. An ill-tied, if not positively
untied cravat was a sure sign of an unbridled imagination;
and a waistcoat was held together by one button
only, as if the swelling soul in the wearer’s bosom had
burst all the rest. If, in addition to this, the hair was
unbrushed and curly, you were certain of passing for a
‘man of soul.’ I should not recommend any young gentleman
to adopt this style, unless, indeed, he can mouth
a great deal, and has a good stock of quotations from
the poets. It is of no use to show me the clouds, unless
I can positively see you in them, and no amount of negligence
in your dress and person will convince me you
are a genius, unless you produce an octavo volume of
poems published by yourself. I confess I am glad that
the <i>négligé</i> style, so common in novels of ten years back,
has been succeeded by neatness. What we want is real
ease in the clothes, and, for my part, I should rejoice to
see the Knickerbocker style generally adopted.</p>

<p>“Besides the ordinary occasions treated of before,
there are several special occasions requiring a change<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">{152}</a></span>
of dress. Most of our sports, together with marriage
(which some people include in sports), come under this
head. Now, the less change we make the better in the
present day, particularly in the sports, where, if we are
dressed with scrupulous accuracy, we are liable to be
subjected to a comparison between our clothes and our
skill. A man who wears a red coat to hunt in, should
be able to hunt, and not sneak through gates or dodge
over gaps. A few remarks on dresses worn in different
sports may be useful. Having laid down the rule that a
strict accuracy of sporting costume is no longer in good
taste, we can dismiss shooting and fishing at once, with
the warning that we must not dress <em>well</em> for either. An
old coat with large pockets, gaiters in one case, and, if
necessary, large boots in the other, thick shoes at any
rate, a wide-awake, and a well-filled bag or basket at
the end of the day, make up a most respectable sportsman
of the lesser kind. Then for cricket you want
nothing more unusual than flannel trousers, which should
be quite plain, unless your club has adopted some colored
stripe thereon, a colored flannel shirt of no very violent
hue, the same colored cap, shoes with spikes in them,
and a great coat.</p>

<p>“For hunting, lastly, you have to make more change,
if only to insure your own comfort and safety. Thus
cord-breeches and some kind of boots are indispensable.
So are spurs, so a hunting-whip or crop; so too, if you
do not wear a hat, is the strong round cap that is to
save your valuable skull from cracking if you are thrown
on your head. Again, I should pity the man who would
attempt to hunt in a frock-coat or a dress-coat; and a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">{153}</a></span>
scarf with a pin in it is much more convenient than a
tie. But beyond these you need nothing out of the common
way, but a pocketful of money. The red coat, for
instance, is only worn by regular members of a hunt, and
boys who ride over the hounds and like to display their
‘pinks.’ In any case you are better with an ordinary
riding-coat of dark color, though undoubtedly the red is
prettier in the field. If you <em>will</em> wear the latter, see
that it is cut square, for the swallow-tail is obsolete, and
worn only by the fine old boys who ‘hunted, sir, fifty
years ago, sir, when I was a boy of fifteen, sir. Those
<em>were</em> hunting days, sir; such runs and such leaps.’
Again, your ‘cords’ should be light in color and fine in
quality; your waistcoat, if with a red coat, quite light
too; your scarf of cashmere, of a buff color, and fastened
with a small simple gold pin; your hat should be old,
and your cap of dark green or black velvet, plated inside,
and with a small stiff peak, should be made to look
old. Lastly, for a choice of boots. The Hessians are
more easily cleaned, and therefore less expensive to keep;
the ‘tops’ are more natty. Brummell, who cared more
for the hunting-dress than the hunting itself, introduced
the fashion of pipe-claying the tops of the latter,
but the old original ‘mahoganies,’ of which the upper
leathers are simply polished, seem to be coming into
fashion again.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">{154}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.<br />
<span class="sub">MANLY EXERCISES.</span></h2>

<p>Bodily exercise is one of the most important means
provided by nature for the maintenance of health, and
in order to prove the advantages of exercise, we must
show what is to be exercised, why exercise is necessary,
and the various modes in which it may be taken.</p>

<p>The human body may be regarded as a wonderful
machine, the various parts of which are so wonderfully
adapted to each other, that if one be disturbed all must
suffer. The bones and muscles are the parts of the human
frame on which motion depends. There are four
hundred muscles in the body; each one has certain
functions to perform, which cannot be disturbed without
danger to the whole. They assist the tendons in keeping
the bones in their places, and put them in motion.
Whether we walk or run, sit or stoop, bend the arm or
head, or chew our food, we may be said to open and shut
a number of hinges, or ball and socket joints. And it
is a wise provision of nature, that, to a certain extent,
the more the muscles are exercised, the stronger do they
become; hence it is that laborers and artisans are
stronger and more muscular than those persons whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">{155}</a></span>
lives are passed in easy occupations or professional duties.</p>

<p>Besides strengthening the limbs, muscular exercise
has a most beneficial influence on respiration and the
circulation of the blood. The larger blood-vessels are
generally placed deep among the muscles, consequently
when the latter are put into motion, the blood is driven
through the arteries and veins with much greater rapidity
than when there is no exercise; it is more completely
purified, as the action of the insensible perspiration
is promoted, which relieves the blood of many irritating
matters, chiefly carbonic acid and certain salts,
taken up in its passage through the system, and a feeling
of lightness and cheerfulness is diffused over body
and mind.</p>

<p>We have said that a good state of health depends in a
great measure on the proper exercise of <em>all the muscles</em>.
But on looking at the greater portion of our industrial
population,&mdash;artisans and workers in factories generally&mdash;we
find them, in numerous instances, standing or sitting
in forced or unnatural positions, using only a few
of their muscles, while the others remain, comparatively
speaking, unused or inactive. Sawyers, filers, tailors,
and many others may be easily recognized as they walk
the streets, by the awkward movement and bearing impressed
upon them by long habit. The stooping position
especially tells most fatally upon the health; weavers,
shoemakers, and cotton-spinners have generally a sallow
and sickly appearance, very different from that of those
whose occupation does not require them to stoop, or to
remain long in a hurtful posture. Their common affections<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">{156}</a></span>
are indigestion and dull headache, with giddiness
especially during summer. They attribute their complaints
to two causes, one of which is the posture of the
body, bent for twelve or thirteen hours a day, the other
the heat of the working-room.</p>

<p>Besides the trades above enumerated, there are many
others productive of similar evils by the position into
which they compel workmen, or by the close and confined
places in which they are carried on; and others,
again, in their very natures injurious. Plumbers and
painters suffer from the noxious materials which they are
constantly using, grinders and filers from dust, and
bakers from extremes of temperature and irregular hours.
Wherever there is physical depression, there is a disposition
to resort to injurious stimulants; and “the time of
relief from work is generally spent, not in invigorating
the animal frame, but in aggravating complaints, and
converting functional into organic disease.”</p>

<p>But there are others who suffer from artificial poisons
and defective exercise as well as artisans and operatives&mdash;the
numerous class of shopkeepers; the author above
quoted says, “Week after week passes without affording
them one pure inspiration. Often, also, they have not
exercise even in the open air of the town; a furlong’s
walk to church on Sunday being the extent of their
rambles. When they have the opportunity they want
the inclination for exercise. The father is anxious about
his trade or his family, the mother is solicitous about her
children. Each has little taste for recreation or amusement.”
The various disorders, generally known under
the name of indigestion, disorders dependant on a want<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">{157}</a></span>
of circulation of blood through the bowels, biliary derangements,
and headache, are well known to be the
general attendants on trade, closely pursued. Indeed,
in almost every individual, this absorbing principle produces
one or other of the various maladies to which I
have alluded.</p>

<p>The great remedy for the evils here pointed out is
bodily exercise, of some kind, every day, and as much
as possible in the open air. An opinion prevails that an
occasional walk is sufficient to maintain the balance of
health; but if the intervals of inaction be too long, the
good effect of one walk is lost before another is taken.
Regularity and sufficiency are to be as much regarded
in exercise as in eating or sleeping. Sir James Clark
says, that “the exercise which is to benefit the system
generally, must be in the open air, and extend to the
whole muscular system. Without regular exercise out
of doors, no young person can continue long healthy;
and it is the duty of parents in fixing their children at
boarding schools to ascertain that sufficient time is occupied
daily in this way. They may be assured that attention
to this circumstance is quite as essential to the
moral and physical health of their children, as any
branch of education which they may be taught.”</p>

<p>Exercise, however, must be regulated by certain rules,
the principal of which is, to avoid carrying it to excess&mdash;to
proportion it always to the state of health and habit
of the individual. Persons of short breath predisposed
to determination of blood to the head, subject to palpitation
of the heart, or general weakness, are not to believe
that a course of severe exercise will do them good;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">{158}</a></span>
on the contrary, many serious results often follow over-fatigue.
For the same reason it is desirable to avoid active
exertion immediately after a full meal, as the foundation
of heart diseases is sometimes laid by leaping or
running after eating. The great object should be so to
blend exercise and repose, as to ensure the highest possible
amount of bodily vigor. It must be recollected
that exhausted muscles can be restored only by the most
perfect rest.</p>

<p>In the next place, it is a mistake to consider the labor
of the day as equivalent to exercise. Work, generally
speaking, is a mere routine process, carried on with but
little variety of circumstances, in a confined atmosphere,
and in a temperature frequently more exhaustive than
restorative. The workman requires something more
than this to keep him in health; he must have exercise
as often as possible in the open air,&mdash;in fields, parks, or
pleasure grounds; but if these are not at his command,
the streets of the town are always open to him, and a
walk in these is better than no walk at all. The mere
change of scene is beneficial, and in walking he generally
sets in motion a different set of muscles from those he
has used while at work.</p>

<p>To derive the greatest amount of good from exercise,
it must be combined with amusement, and be made
pleasureable and recreative. This important fact ought
never to be lost sight of, since to ignorance of it alone
we owe many of the evils which afflict society. And it
would be well if those who have been accustomed to look
on social amusements as destructive of the morals of the
people, would consider how much good may be done by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">{159}</a></span>
giving the mind a direction which, while promotive of
health, would fill it with cheerfulness and wean it from
debasing habits. The character of our sports at the
present time, partake but little of the robust and boisterous
spirit of our forefathers; but with the refinement
of amusements, the opportunity for enjoying them has
been grievously diminished. Cheering signs of a better
state of things are, however, visible in many quarters,
and we trust that the good work will be carried on until
the whole of our population shall be in possession of the
means and leisure for pleasurable recreation.</p>

<p>While indulging in the recreative sports which are to
restore and invigorate us, we must be mindful of the
many points of etiquette and kindness which will do
much, if properly attended to, to promote the enjoyment
of our exercise, and we propose to review the principal
exercises used among us, and to point out in what places
the delicate and gentlemanly attention to our companions
will do the most to establish, for the person who practices
them, the reputation of a polished gentleman.</p>

<h3>RIDING.</h3>

<p>There are no amusements, probably, which give us so
wide a scope for the rendering of attention to a friend
as riding and driving. Accompanied, as we may be at
any time, by timid companions, the power to convince
them, by the management of the horse we ride, and the
watch kept at the same time on theirs, that we are competent
to act the part of companion and guardian, will
enable us to impart to them a great degree of reliance on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">{160}</a></span>
us, and will, by lessening their fear do much to enhance
the enjoyment of the excursion.</p>

<p>With ladies, in particular, a horseman cannot be too
careful to display a regard for the fears of their companions,
and by a constant watch on all the horses in the
cavalcade, to show at once his ability and willingness to
assist his companions.</p>

<p>There are few persons, comparatively speaking, even
among those who ride often, who can properly assist a
lady in mounting her horse. An over-anxiety to help a
lady as gracefully as possible, generally results in a nervous
trembling effort which is exceedingly disagreeable
to the lady, and, at the same time, dangerous; for were
the horse to shy or start, he could not be so easily
quieted by a nervous man as by one who was perfectly
cool. In the mount the lady must gather her skirt into
her left hand, and stand close to the horse, her face toward
his head, and her right hand resting on the pommel.
The gentleman, having asked permission to assist her,
stands at the horse’s shoulder, facing the lady, and stooping
low, he places his right hand at a proper elevation
from the ground. The lady then places her left foot on
the gentleman’s palm, and as he raises his hand she
springs slightly on her right foot, and thus reaches the
saddle. The gentleman must not jerk his hand upward,
but lift it with a gentle motion. This method of mounting
is preferable to a step or horse-block. Keep a <em>firm</em>
hand, for a sinking foot-hold will diminish the confidence
of a lady in her escort, and, in many cases cause her
unnecessary alarm while mounting. To any one who is
likely to be called on to act as cavalier to ladies in horse-back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">{161}</a></span>
excursions, we would recommend the following
practice: Saddle a horse with a side saddle, and ask a
gentleman friend to put on the skirt of a lady’s habit,
and with him, practice the mounting and dismounting
until you have thoroughly conquered any difficulties you
may have experienced at first.</p>

<p>After the seat is first taken by the lady, the gentleman
should always stand at the side of the lady’s horse
until she is firmly fixed in the saddle, has a good foot-hold
on the stirrup, and has the reins and whip well in
hand. Having ascertained that his companion is firmly
and comfortably fixed in the saddle, the gentleman
should mount his horse and take his riding position on
the right or “off” side of the lady’s horse, so that, in
case of the horse’s shying in such a way as to bring him
against the other horse, the lady will suffer no inconvenience.
In riding with two ladies there are two rules
in regard to the gentleman’s position.</p>

<p>If both ladies are good riders, they should ride side
by side, the ladies to the left; but, if the contrary should
be the case, the gentleman should ride <em>between</em> the ladies
in order to be ready in a moment to assist either in case
of one of the horses becoming difficult to manage. Before
allowing a lady to mount, the entire furniture of
her horse should be carefully examined by her escort.
The saddle and girths should be tested to see if they are
firm, the stirrup leather examined, in case of the tongue
of the buckle being in danger of slipping out by not being
well buckled at first, and most particularly the bridle,
curb, headstall, and reins should be carefully and
thoroughly examined, for on them depends the entire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">{162}</a></span>
control of the horse. These examinations should <em>never</em>
be left to the stablehelps, as the continual harnessing of
horses by them often leads to a loose and careless way
of attending to such matters, which, though seemingly
trivial, may lead to serious consequences.</p>

<p>On the road, the constant care of the gentleman should
be to render the ride agreeable to his companion, by the
pointing out of objects of interest with which she may
not be acquainted, the reference to any peculiar beauty
of landscape which may have escaped her notice, and a
general lively tone of conversation, which will, if she be
timid, draw her mind from the fancied dangers of horseback
riding, and render her excursion much more agreeable
than if she be left to imagine horrors whenever her
horse may prick up his ears or whisk his tail. And,
while thus conversing, keep an eye always on the lady’s
horse, so that in case he should really get frightened,
you may be ready by your instruction and assistance to
aid the lady in quieting his fears.</p>

<p>In dismounting you should offer your right hand to
the lady’s left, and allow her to use <em>your</em> left as a step
to dismount on, gently declining it as soon as the lady
has left her seat on the saddle, and just before she
springs. Many ladies spring from the saddle, but this
generally confuses the gentleman and is dangerous to
the lady, for the horse <em>may</em> move at the instant she
springs, which would inevitably throw her backward and
might result in a serious injury.</p>

<h3>DRIVING.</h3>

<p>In the indulgence of this beautiful pastime there are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">{163}</a></span>
many points of care and attention to be observed; they
will render to the driver himself much gratification by
the confidence they will inspire in his companion, by
having the knowledge that he or she is being driven by
a careful horseman, and thus knowing that half of what
danger may attend the pleasure, is removed.</p>

<p>On reaching the door of your companion’s residence,
whom we will suppose to be in this case a lady,&mdash;though
the same attention may well be extended to a gentleman,&mdash;drive
close to the mounting-block or curb, and
by heading your horse toward the middle of the road,
and slightly backing the wagon, separate the fore and
hind wheels on the side next the block as much as possible.
This gives room for the lady to ascend into the
wagon without soiling her dress by rubbing against
either tire, and also gives the driver room to lean over
and tuck into the wagon any part of a lady’s dress that
may hang out after she is seated.</p>

<p>In assisting the lady to ascend into the wagon, the
best and safest way is to tie the horse firmly to a hitching-post
or tree, and then to give to your companion the
aid of both your hands; but, in case of there being no
post to which you can make the rein fast, the following
rule may be adopted:</p>

<p>Grasp the reins firmly with one hand, and draw them
just tight enough to let the horse feel that they are
held, and with the other hand assist the lady; under <em>no</em>
circumstances, even with the most quiet horse, should
you place a lady in your vehicle without <em>any</em> hold on
the horse, for, although many horses would stand perfectly
quiet, the whole race of them are timid, and any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">{164}</a></span>
sudden noise or motion may start them, in which case
the life of your companion may be endangered. In the
light <i>no-top</i> or <i>York</i> wagon, which is now used almost
entirely for pleasure drives, the right hand cushion
should always be higher by three or four inches than the
left, for it raises the person driving, thus giving him
more control, and renders the lady’s seat more comfortable
and more safe. It is a mistaken idea, in driving,
that it shows a perfect horseman, to drive fast. On the
contrary, a <em>good</em> horseman is more careful of his horse
than a poor one, and in starting, the horse is always allowed
to go slowly for time; as he gradually takes up a
quicker pace, and becomes warmed up; the driver may
push him even to the top of his speed for some distance,
always, however, allowing him to slacken his pace toward
the end of his drive, and to come to the stopping-place
at a moderate gait.</p>

<p>Endeavor, by your conversation on the road, to make
the ride agreeable to your companion. Never try to
<em>show off</em> your driving, but remember, that there is no
one who drives with so much apparent ease and so little
display as the professional jockey, who, as he devotes
his life to the management of the reins, may well be supposed
to be the most thoroughly good “whip.”</p>

<p>In helping the lady out of the wagon, the same rule
must be observed as in the start; namely, to have your
horse well in hand or firmly tied. Should your companion
be a gentleman and a horseman, the courtesy is
always to offer him the reins, though the offer, if made
to yourself by another with whom you are riding, should
always be declined; unless, indeed, the horse should be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">{165}</a></span>
particularly “hard-mouthed” and your friend’s arms
should be tired, in which case you should relieve him.</p>

<p>Be especially careful in the use of the whip, that it
may not spring back outside of the vehicle and strike
your companion. This rule should be particularly attended
to in driving “tandem” or “four-in-hand,” as a
cut with a heavy tandem-whip is by no means a pleasant
accompaniment to your drive.</p>

<h3>BOXING.</h3>

<p>In this much-abused accomplishment, there would,
from the rough nature of the sport, seem to be small
room for civility; yet, in none of the many manly sports
is there so great a scope for the exercise of politeness
as in this. Should your adversary be your inferior in
boxing, there are many ways to teach him and encourage
him in his pursuit of proficiency, without knocking him
about as if your desire was to injure him as much as possible.
And you will find that his gratitude for your
forbearance will prompt him to exercise the same indulgence
to others who are inferior to himself, and thus by
the exchange of gentlemanly civility the science of boxing
is divested of one of its most objectionable points, viz:
the danger of the combatants becoming angry and changing
the sport to a brutal fight.</p>

<p>Always allow your antagonist to choose his gloves
from the set, though, if you recommend <em>any</em> to him, let
him take the hardest ones and you the softest; thus he
will receive the easier blows. Allow him the choice of
ground and position, and endeavor in every way to give
him the utmost chance. In this way, even if you should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">{166}</a></span>
be worsted in the game, your kindness and courtesy to
him will be acknowledged by any one who may be with
you, and by no one more readily than your antagonist
himself. These same rules apply to the art of fencing,
the most graceful and beautiful of exercises. Let your
opponent have his choice of the foils and sword-gloves,
give him the best position for light, and in your thrusts
remember that to make a “hit” does not require you to
force your foil as violently as you can against your antagonist’s
breast; but, that every touch will show if your
foils be chalked and the one who has the most “spots”
at the end of the encounter is the beaten man.</p>

<h3>SAILING.</h3>

<p>Within a few years there has been a most decided
movement in favor of aquatic pursuits. Scarcely a town
can be found, near the sea or on the bank of a river
but what can either furnish a yacht or a barge. In all
our principal cities the “navies” of yachts and barges
number many boats. The barge clubs particularly are
well-fitted with active, healthy men, who can appreciate
the physical benefit of a few hours’ work at the end of a
sixteen-foot sweep, and who prefer health and blistered
hands to a life of fashionable and unhealthy amusement.
Under the head of sailing we will give some hints of
etiquette as to sailing and rowing together. A gentleman
will never parade his superiority in these accomplishments,
still less boast of it, but rather, that the others may not feel
their inferiority, he will keep considerably within his powers.
If a guest or a stranger be of the party, the best
place must be offered to him, though he may be a bad oar;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">{167}</a></span>
but, at the same time, if a guest knows his inferiority in this
respect, he will, for more reasons than one, prefer an inferior
position. So, too, when a certain amount of exertion
is required, as in boating, a well-bred man will offer to
take the greater share, pull the heaviest oar, and will
never shirk his work. In short, the whole rule of good
manners on such occasions is not to be selfish, and the
most amiable man will therefore be the best bred. It is
certainly desirable that a gentleman should be able to
handle an oar, or to steer and work a yacht, both that
when he has an opportunity he may acquire health, and
that he may be able to take part in the charming excursions
which are made by water. One rule should apply
to all these aquatic excursions, and that is, that the gentleman
who invites the ladies, should there be any, and
who is, therefore, at the trouble of getting up the party,
should always be allowed to steer the boat, unless he
decline the post, for he has the advantage of more intimate
acquaintance with the ladies, whom he will have to
entertain on the trip, and the post of honor should be
given him as a compliment to his kindness in undertaking
the preliminaries.</p>

<h3>HUNTING.</h3>

<p>Gentlemen residing in the country, and keeping a
stable, are generally ready to join the hunt club. We are
gradually falling into the English sports and pastimes.
Cricket, boxing, and hunting, are being more and more
practiced every year, and our horsemen and pugilists
aspire to conquer those of Britain, when a few years
back, to attempt such a thing would have been considered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">{168}</a></span>
folly. In this country the organization of hunt-clubs
is made as much to rid the country of the foxes as
to enjoy the sport. We differ much from the Britons in
our hunting; we have often a hilly dangerous country,
with high worm and post-and-rail fences crossing it, deep
streams with precipitous sides and stony ground to ride
over. We hunt in cold weather when the ground is
frozen hard, and we take everything as it is, hills, fences,
streams, and hedges, risking our necks innumerable
times in a hunt. In England the hunters have a flat
country, fences which do not compare to ours in height,
and they hunt <em>after</em> a frost when the ground is soft.</p>

<p>Our hunting field at the “meet” does not show the
gaudy equipment and top-boots of England, but the
plain dress of the gentleman farmer, sometimes a blue
coat and jockey-cap, but oftener the every-day coat and
felt hat, but the etiquette of our hunting field is more
observed than in England. There any one joins the
meet, if it is a large one, but here no one enters the field
unless acquainted with one or more of the gentlemen on
the ground. The rules in the hunt are few and simple.
Never attempt to hunt unless you have a fine seat in the
saddle and a good horse, and never accept the loan of a
friend’s horse, still less an enemy’s, unless you ride very
well. A man may forgive you for breaking his daughter’s
heart but never for breaking his hunter’s neck.
Another point is, always to be quiet at a meet, and never
join one unless acquainted with some one in the field.
Pluck, skill, and a good horse are essentials in hunting.
Never talk of your achievements, avoid enthusiastic shouting
when you break cover, and do not ride over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">{169}</a></span>
hounds. Keep a firm hand, a quick eye, an easy, calm
frame of mind, and a good, firm seat on the saddle.
Watch the country you are going over, be always ready
to help a friend who may “come to grief,” and with the
rules and the quiet demeanor you will soon be a favorite
in the field.</p>

<h3>SKATING.</h3>

<p>Though we may, in the cold winter, sigh for the return
of spring breezes, and look back with regret on the autumn
sports, or even the heat of summer, there is yet a
balm for our frozen spirits in the glorious and exhilarating
sports of winter. The sleigh filled with laughing
female beauties and “beauties,” too, of the sterner sex,
and the merry jingle of the bells as we fly along the
road or through the streets, are delights of which Old
Winter alone is the giver. But, pleasant as the sleigh-ride
is, the man who looks for health and exercise at all
seasons, turns from the seductive pleasures of the sleigh
to the more simple enjoyment derived from the skates.
Flying along over the glistening ice to the accompaniment
of shouts of merry laughter at some novice’s mishap,
and feeling that we have within us the speed of the
race-horse, the icy pleasure is, indeed, a good substitute
for the pleasures of the other seasons.</p>

<p>So universal has skating become, that instruction in
this graceful accomplishment seems almost unnecessary;
but, for the benefit of the rising generation who may
peruse our work, we will give, from a well-known authority,
a few hints as to the manner of using the skates<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">{170}</a></span>
before we add our own instruction as to the etiquette of
the skating ground.</p>

<p>“Before going on the ice, the young skater must learn
to put on the skates, and may also learn to walk with
them easily in a room, balancing, alternately, on each
foot. A skater’s dress should be as loose and unincumbered
as possible. All fullness of dress is exposed to the
wind. As the exercise of skating produces perspiration,
flannel next the chest, shoulders, and loins, is necessary
to avoid the evils of sudden chills in cold weather.</p>

<p>“Either very rough or very smooth ice should be
avoided. The person who, for the first time, attempts to
skate, must not trust to a stick. He may take a friend’s
hand for support, if he requires one; but that should be
soon relinquished, in order to balance himself. He will,
probably, scramble about for half an hour or so, till he
begins to find out where the edge of his skate is. The
beginner must be fearless, but not violent; nor even in
a hurry. He should not let his feet get apart, and keep
his heels still nearer together. He must keep the ankle
of the foot on the ice quite firm; not attempting to gain
the edge of the skate by bending it, because the right
mode of getting to either edge is by the inclination of
the whole body in the direction required; and this inclination
should be made fearlessly and decisively. The
leg which is on the ice should be kept perfectly straight;
for, though the knee must be somewhat bent at the time
of striking, it must be straightened as quickly as possible
without any jerk. The leg which is off the ice should
also be kept straight, though not stiff, having an easy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">{171}</a></span>
but straight play, the toe pointing downwards, and the
heel from six to twelve inches of the other.</p>

<p>“The learner must not look down at the ice, nor at
his feet, to see how they perform. He may, at first, incline
his body a little forward, for safety, but hold his
head up, and see where he goes, his person erect and his
face rather elevated than otherwise.</p>

<p>“When once off, he must bring both feet up together,
and strike again, as soon as he finds himself steady
enough, rarely allowing both feet to be on the ice together.
The position of the arms should be easy and
varied; one being always more raised than the other,
this elevation being alternate, and the change corresponding
to that of the legs; that is, the right arm being
raised as the right leg is put down, and <i>vice versâ</i>, so
that the arm and leg of the same side may not be raised
together. The face must be always turned in the direction
of the line intended to be described. Hence in
backward skating, the head will be inclined much over
the shoulder; in forward skating, but slightly. All
sudden and violent action must be avoided. Stopping
may be caused by slightly bending the knees, drawing
the feet together, inclining the body forward, and pressing
on the heels. It may be also caused by turning
short to the right or left, the foot on the side to which
we turn being rather more advanced, and supporting
part of the weight.”<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p>

<p>When on the ice, if you should get your skates on before
your companion, always wait for him; for, nothing
is more disagreeable than being left behind on an occasion<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">{172}</a></span>
of this kind. Be ready at all times when skating
to render assistance to any one, either lady or gentleman,
who may require it. A <em>gentleman</em> may be distinguished
at all times by the willingness with which he
will give up his sport to render himself agreeable and
kind to any one in difficulty. Should you have one of
the skating-sleds so much used for taking ladies on the
ice, and should your own ladies, if you are accompanied
by any, not desire to use it, the most becoming thing
you can do is to place it at the disposal of any other
gentleman who has ladies with him, and who is not provided
with such a conveyance.</p>

<p>Always keep to the right in meeting a person on the
ice, and always skate perfectly clear of the line in which
a lady is advancing, whether she be on skates or on foot.
Attention to the other sex is no where more appreciated
than on the ice, where they are, unless good skaters,
comparatively helpless. Be always prompt to assist in
the extrication of any one who may break through the
ice, but let your zeal be tempered by discretion, and
always get a rope or ladder if possible, in preference to
going near the hole; for there is great risk of your breaking
through yourself, and endangering your own life
without being able to assist the person already submerged.
But should the rope or ladder not be convenient,
the best method is to lay flat on your breast on
the ice, and push yourself cautiously along until you can
touch the person’s hand, and then let him climb by it
out of the hole.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">{173}</a></span></p>

<h3>SWIMMING.</h3>

<p>So few persons are unable to swim, that it would be
useless for us to furnish any instruction in the actual
art of swimming; but a few words on the subject of assisting
others while in the water may not come amiss.</p>

<p>It is a desirable accomplishment to be able to swim in
a suit of clothes. This may be practiced by good swimmers,
cautiously at first, in comparatively shallow water,
and afterwards in deeper places. Occasions may frequently
occur where it may be necessary to plunge into
the water to save a drowning person, where the lack of
time, or the presence of ladies, would preclude all possibility
of removing the clothes. There are few points
of etiquette in swimming, except those of giving all the
assistance in our power to beginners, and to remember
the fact of our being gentlemen, though the sport may
be rough when we are off <i>terra firma</i>. We shall therefore
devote this section of our exercise department to
giving a few general directions as to supporting drowning
persons, which support is, after all, the most valued
attention we can render to any one.</p>

<p>If possible, always go to save a life in company with
one or two others. One companion is generally sufficient,
but two will do no harm, for, if the service of the
second be not required, he can easily swim back to shore.
On reaching the object of your pursuit, if he be clinging
to anything, caution him, as you approach, to hold it
until you tell him to let go, and then to let his arms fall
to his side. Then let one of your companions place his
hand under the armpit of the person to be assisted, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">{174}</a></span>
you doing the like, call to him to let go his support, then
tread water until you get his arms on the shoulders of
your companion and yourself, and then swim gently to
shore. Should you be alone, the utmost you can do is
to let him hold his support while you tread water near
him until further assistance can be obtained. If you
are alone and he has no support, let him rest one arm
across your shoulder, put one of your arms behind his
back, and the hand under his armpit, and tread water
until help arrives. Never let a man in these circumstances
<em>grasp</em> you in any way, particularly if he be
frightened, for you may both be drowned; but, try to
cool and reassure him by the intrepidity of your own
movements, and he will be safely and easily preserved.</p>

<h3>CRICKET.</h3>

<p>When in the cricket-field, we must allow ourselves to
enter into the full spirit of the game; but we must not
allow the excitement of the play to make us forget what
is due to others and to ourselves. A gentle, easy, and,
at the same time, gentlemanly manner, may be assumed.
Always offer to your companions the use of
your private bat, if they are not similarly provided; for
the bats belonging to the club often lose the spring in
the handle from constant use, and a firm bat with a good
spring will prove very acceptable. In this way you
gratify the player, and, as a reward for your kindness,
he may, from being well provided, score more for the
side than he would with inferior or worn-out tools.</p>

<p>This game is more purely democratic than any one we
know of, and the most aristocratic of gentlemen takes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">{175}</a></span>
second rank, for the time, to the most humble cricketer,
if the latter be the more skillful. But a good player is
not always a gentleman, and the difference in cultivation
may always be distinguished. A <em>gentleman</em> will never
deride any one for his bad play, nor give vent to oaths,
or strong epithets, if disappointed in the playing of one
of his side. If he has to ask another player for anything,
he does so in a way to establish his claim to gentility.
“May I trouble you for that ball?” or, “Will
you please to hand me that bat?” are much preferable to
“Here, you! ball there!” or, “Clumsy, don’t carry off
that bat!” Again, if a gentleman makes a mistake himself,
he should always acknowledge it quietly, and never
start a stormy discussion as to the merits of his batting
or fielding. In fine, preserve the same calm demeanor
in the field that you would in the parlor, however deeply
you enter into the excitement of the game.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">{176}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.<br />
<span class="sub">TRAVELING.</span></h2>

<p>In this country where ladies travel so much alone, a
gentleman has many opportunities of making this unprotected
state a pleasant one. There are many little
courtesies which you may offer to a lady when traveling,
even if she is an entire stranger to you, and by an
air of respectful deference, you may place her entirely
at her ease with you, even if you are both young.</p>

<p>When traveling with a lady, your duties commence
when you are presented to her as an escort. If she is
personally a stranger, she will probably meet you at the
wharf or car depot; but if an old acquaintance, you
should offer to call for her at her residence. Take a
hack, and call, leaving ample time for last speeches and
farewell tears. If she hands you her purse to defray
her expenses, return it to her if you stop for any length
of time at a place where she may wish to make purchases.
If you make no stop upon your journey, keep
the purse until you arrive at your destination, and then
return it. If she does not give you the money for her
expenses when you start, you had best pay them yourself,
keeping an account, and she will repay you at the
journey’s end.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">{177}</a></span>
When you start, select for your companion the pleasantest
seat, see that her shawl and bag are within her
reach, the window lowered or raised as she may prefer,
and then leave her to attend to the baggage, or, if you
prefer, let her remain in the hack while you get checks
for the trunks. Never keep a lady standing upon the
wharf or in the depot, whilst you arrange the baggage.</p>

<p>When you arrive at a station, place your lady in a
hack while you get the trunks.</p>

<p>When arriving at a hotel, escort your companion to
the parlor, and leave her there whilst you engage rooms.
As soon as her room is ready, escort her to the door,
and leave her, as she will probably wish to change her
dress or lie down, after the fatigue of traveling. If you
remain chatting in the parlor, although she may be too
polite to give any sign of weariness, you may feel sure
she is longing to go to a room where she can bathe her
face and smooth her hair.</p>

<p>If you remain in the hotel to any meal, ask before
you leave her, at what hour she wishes to dine, sup, or
breakfast, and at that hour, knock at her door, and
escort her to the table.</p>

<p>If you remain in the city at which her journey terminates,
you should call the day after your arrival upon
the companion of your journey. If, previous to that
journey, you have never met her, she has the privilege
of continuing the acquaintance or not as she pleases, so
if all your gallantry is repaid by a cut the next time
you meet her, you must submit, and hope for better
luck next time. In such a case, you are at liberty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">{178}</a></span>
to decline escorting her again should the request be
made.</p>

<p>When traveling alone, your opportunities to display
your gallantry will be still more numerous. To offer
to carry a bag for a lady who is unattended, to raise or
lower a window for her, offer to check her baggage,
procure her a hack, give her your arm from car to boat
or boat to car, assist her children over the bad crossings,
or in fact extend any such kindness, will mark you as a
gentleman, and win you the thanks due to your courtesy.
Be careful however not to be too attentive, as you then
become officious, and embarrass when you mean to
please.</p>

<p>If you are going to travel in other countries, in Europe,
especially, I would advise you to study the languages,
before you attempt to go abroad. French is
the tongue you will find most useful in Europe, as it is
spoken in the courts, and amongst diplomatists; but, in
order fully to enjoy a visit to any country, you must
speak the language of that country. You can then
visit in the private houses, see life among the peasantry,
go with confidence from village to town, from city to
city, learning more of the country in one day from
familiar intercourse with the natives, than you would
learn in a year from guide books or the explanations of
your courier. The way to really enjoy a journey
through a strange land, is not to roll over the high
ways in your carriage, stop at the hotels, and be led
to the points of interest by your guide, but to shoulder
your knapsack, or take up your valise, and make a
pedestrian tour through the hamlets and villages. Take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">{179}</a></span>
a room at a hotel in the principal cities if you will,
and see all that your guide book commands you to seek,
and then start on your own tour of investigation, and
believe me you will enjoy your independent walks and
chats with the villagers and peasants, infinitely more
than your visits dictated by others. Of course, to enjoy
this mode of traveling, you must have some knowledge
of the language, and if you start with only a very
slight acquaintance with it, you will be surprised to find
how rapidly you will acquire the power to converse,
when you are thus forced to speak in that language, or
be entirely silent.</p>

<p>Your pocket, too, will be the gainer by the power to
arrange your own affairs. If you travel with a courier
and depend upon him to arrange your hotel bills and
other matters, you will be cheated by every one, from
the boy who blacks your boots, to the magnificent artist,
who undertakes to fill your picture gallery with the works
of the “old masters.” If Murillo, Raphael, and Guido
could see the pictures brought annually to this country
as genuine works of their pencils, we are certain that
they would tear their ghostly hair, wring their shadowy
hands, and return to the tomb again in disgust. Ignorant
of the language of the country you are visiting, you
will be swindled in the little villages and the large cities
by the inn-keepers and the hack-drivers, in the country
and in the town, morning, noon, and evening, daily,
hourly, and weekly; so, again I say, study the languages
if you propose going abroad.</p>

<p>In a foreign country nothing stamps the difference between
the gentleman and the clown more strongly than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">{180}</a></span>
the regard they pay to foreign customs. While the
latter will exclaim against every strange dress or dish,
and even show signs of disgust if the latter does not
please him, the former will endeavor, as far as is in his
power, to “do in Rome as Romans do.”</p>

<p>Accustom yourself, as soon as possible, to the customs
of the nation which you are visiting, and, as far as you
can without any violation of principle, follow them.
You will add much to your own comfort by so doing, for,
as you cannot expect the whole nation to conform to
your habits, the sooner you fall in with theirs the sooner
you will feel at home in the strange land.</p>

<p>Never ridicule or blame any usage which seems to you
ludicrous or wrong. You may wound those around you,
or you may anger them, and it cannot add to the
pleasure of your visit to make yourself unpopular. If
in Germany they serve your meat upon marmalade, or
your beef raw, or in Italy give you peas in their pods,
or in France offer you frog’s legs and horsesteaks, if you
cannot eat the strange viands, make no remarks and repress
every look or gesture of disgust. Try to adapt
your taste to the dishes, and if you find that impossible,
remove those articles you cannot eat from your plate,
and make your meal upon the others, but do this silently
and quietly, endeavoring not to attract attention.</p>

<p>The best travelers are those who can eat cats in China,
oil in Greenland, frogs in France, and maccaroni in Italy;
who can smoke a meershaum in Germany, ride an elephant
in India, shoot partridges in England, and wear a turban
in Turkey; in short, in every nation adapt their habits,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">{181}</a></span>
costume, and taste to the national manners, dress and
dishes.</p>

<p>Do not, when abroad, speak continually in praise of
your own country, or disparagingly of others. If you
find others are interested in gaining information about
America, speak candidly and freely of its customs,
scenery, or products, but not in a way that will imply a
contempt of other countries. To turn up your nose at
the Thames because the Mississippi is longer and wider,
or to sneer at <em>any</em> object because you have seen its superior
at home, is rude, ill-bred, and in excessively bad
taste. You will find abroad numerous objects of interest
which America cannot parallel, and while abroad, you
will do well to avoid mention of “our rivers,” “our
mountains,” or, “our manufactories.” You will find ruins
in Rome, pictures in Florence, cemeteries in France, and
factories in England, which will take the lead and challenge
the world to compete; and you will exhibit a far
better spirit if you candidly acknowledge that superiority,
than if you make absurd and untrue assertions of “our”
power to excel them.</p>

<p>You will, of course, meet with much to disapprove,
much that will excite your laughter; but control the one
and keep silence about the other. If you find fault, do
so gently and quietly; if you praise, do so without qualification,
sincerely and warmly.</p>

<p>Study well the geography of any country which you
may visit, and, as far as possible, its history also. You
cannot feel much interest in localities or monuments connected
with history, if you are unacquainted with the
events which make them worthy of note.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">{182}</a></span>
Converse with any who seem disposed to form an acquaintance.
You may thus pass an hour or two pleasantly,
obtain useful information, and you need not carry
on the acquaintance unless you choose to do so. Amongst
the higher circles in Europe you will find many of the
customs of each nation in other nations, but it is among
the peasants and the people that you find the true nationality.</p>

<p>You may carry with you one rule into every country,
which is, that, however much the inhabitants may object
to your dress, language, or habits, they will cheerfully
acknowledge that the American stranger is perfectly
amiable and polite.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">{183}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.<br />
<span class="sub">ETIQUETTE IN CHURCH.</span></h2>

<p>It is not, in this book, a question, what you must believe,
but how you must act. If your conscience permits
you to visit other churches than your own, your first
duty, whilst in them, is not to sneer or scoff at any of
its forms, and to follow the service as closely as you can.</p>

<p>To remove your hat upon entering the edifice devoted
to the worship of a Higher Power, is a sign of respect
never to be omitted. Many men will omit in foreign
churches this custom so expressive and touching, and by
the omission make others believe them irreverent and
foolish, even though they may act from mere thoughtlessness.
If, however, you are in a country where the
head is kept covered, and another form of humility
adopted, you need not fear to follow the custom of those
around you. You will be more respected if you pay deference
to their religious views, than if you undertook to
prove your superiority by affecting a contempt for any
form of worship. Enter with your thoughts fixed upon
high and holy subjects, and your face will show your devotion,
even if you are ignorant of the forms of that
particular church.</p>

<p>If you are with a lady, in a catholic church, offer her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">{184}</a></span>
the holy water with your hand ungloved, for, as it is
in the intercourse with princes, that church requires all
the ceremonies to be performed with the bare hand.</p>

<p>Pass up the aisle with your companion until you reach
the pew you are to occupy, then step before her, open
the door, and hold it open while she enters the pew.
Then follow her, closing the door after you.</p>

<p>If you are visiting a strange church, request the
sexton to give you a seat. Never enter a pew uninvited.
If you are in your own pew in church, and see strangers
looking for a place, open your pew door, invite them by
a motion to enter, and hold the door open for them, re-entering
yourself after they are seated.</p>

<p>If others around you do not pay what you think a
proper attention to the services, do not, by scornful
glances or whispered remarks, notice their omissions.
Strive, by your own devotion, to forget those near you.</p>

<p>You may offer a book or fan to a stranger near you,
if unprovided themselves, whether they be young or old,
lady or gentleman.</p>

<p>Remain kneeling as long as those around you do so.
Do not, if your own devotion is not satisfied by your attitude,
throw scornful glances upon those who remain
seated, or merely bow their heads. Above all never sign
to them, or speak, reminding them of the position most
suitable for the service. Keep your own position, but do
not think you have the right to dictate to others. I
have heard young persons addressing, with words of reproach,
old men, and lame ones, whose infirmities forbade
them to kneel or stand in church, but who were, doubtless,
as good Christians as their presumptuous advisers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">{185}</a></span>
I know that it often is an effort to remain silent when
those in another pew talk incessantly in a low tone or
whisper, or sing in a loud tone, out of all time or tune,
or read the wrong responses in a voice of thunder; but,
while you carefully avoid such faults yourself, you must
pass them over in others, without remark.</p>

<p>If, when abroad, you visit a church to see the pictures
or monuments within its walls, and not for worship,
choose the hours when there is no service being read.
Even if you are alone, or merely with a guide, speak
low, walk slowly, and keep an air of quiet respect in
the edifice devoted to the service of God.</p>

<p>Let me here protest against an Americanism of which
modest ladies justly complain; it is that of gentlemen
standing in groups round the doors of churches both before
and after service. A well-bred man will not indulge
in this practice; and, if detained upon the step by a
friend, or, whilst waiting for another person, he will
stand aside and allow plenty of room for others to pass
in, and will never bring the blood into a woman’s face
by a long, curious stare.</p>

<p>In church, as in every other position in life, the most
unselfish man is the most perfect gentleman; so, if you
wish to retain your position as a well-bred man, you will,
in a crowded church, offer your seat to any lady, or old
man, who may be standing.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">{186}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.<br />
<span class="sub">ONE HUNDRED HINTS FOR GENTLEMANLY DEPORTMENT.</span></h2>

<p>1. Always avoid any rude or boisterous action, especially
when in the presence of ladies. It is not necessary
to be stiff, indolent, or sullenly silent, neither is
perfect gravity always required, but if you jest let it be
with quiet, gentlemanly wit, never depending upon
clownish gestures for the effect of a story. Nothing
marks the gentleman so soon and so decidedly as quiet,
refined ease of manner.</p>

<p>2. Never allow a lady to get a chair for herself, ring
a bell, pick up a handkerchief or glove she may have
dropped, or, in short, perform any service for herself
which you can perform for her, when you are in the
room. By extending such courtesies to your mother,
sisters, or other members of your family, they become
habitual, and are thus more gracefully performed when
abroad.</p>

<p>3. Never perform any little service for another with a
formal bow or manner as if conferring a favor, but with
a quiet gentlemanly ease as if it were, not a ceremonious,
unaccustomed performance, but a matter of course, for
you to be courteous.</p>

<p>4. It is not necessary to tell <em>all</em> that you know; that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">{187}</a></span>
were mere folly; but what a man says must be what he
believes himself, else he violates the first rule for a gentleman’s
speech&mdash;Truth.</p>

<p>5. Avoid gambling as you would poison. Every bet
made, even in the most finished circles of society, is a
species of gambling, and this ruinous crime comes on by
slow degrees. Whilst a man is minding his business, he
is playing the best game, and he is sure to win. You
will be tempted to the vice by those whom the world
calls gentlemen, but you will find that loss makes you
angry, and an angry man is never a courteous one; gain
excites you to continue the pursuit of the vice; and, in
the end you will lose money, good name, health, good
conscience, light heart, and honesty; while you gain evil
associates, irregular hours and habits, a suspicious, fretful
temper, and a remorseful, tormenting conscience.
Some one <em>must</em> lose in the game; and, if you win it, it
is at the risk of driving a fellow creature to despair.</p>

<p>6. Cultivate tact! In society it will be an invaluable
aid. Talent is something, but tact is everything. Talent
is serious, sober, grave, and respectable; tact is all that
and more too. It is not a sixth sense, but it is the life
of all the five. It is the <em>open</em> eye, the <em>quick</em> ear, the
<em>judging</em> taste, the <em>keen</em> smell, and the <em>lively</em> touch; it is
the interpreter of all riddles&mdash;the surmounter of all difficulties&mdash;the
remover of all obstacles. It is useful in all
places, and at all times; it is useful in solitude, for it
shows a man his way <em>into</em> the world; it is useful in society,
for it shows him his way <em>through</em> the world. Talent
is power&mdash;tact is skill; talent is weight&mdash;tact is momentum;
talent knows what to do&mdash;tact knows how to do it;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">{188}</a></span>
talent makes a man respectable&mdash;tact will make him respected;
talent is wealth&mdash;tact is ready money. For all
the practical purposes of society tact carries against
talent ten to one.</p>

<p>7. Nature has left every man a capacity of being
agreeable, though all cannot <em>shine</em> in company; but there
are many men sufficiently qualified for both, who, by a
very few faults, that a little attention would soon correct,
are not so much as tolerable. Watch, avoid such faults.</p>

<p>8. Habits of self-possession and self-control acquired
early in life, are the best foundation for the formation
of gentlemanly manners. If you unite with this the
constant intercourse with ladies and gentlemen of refinement
and education, you will add to the dignity of perfect
self command, the polished ease of polite society.</p>

<p>9. Avoid a conceited manner. It is exceedingly ill-bred
to assume a manner as if you were superior to those
around you, and it is, too, a proof, not of superiority
but of vulgarity. And to avoid this manner, avoid the
foundation of it, and cultivate humility. The praises
of others should be of use to you, in teaching, not what
you are, perhaps, but in pointing out what you ought to
be.</p>

<p>10. Avoid pride, too; it often miscalculates, and more
often misconceives. The proud man places himself at a
distance from other men; seen through that distance,
others, perhaps, appear little to him; but he forgets that
this very distance causes him also to appear little to
others.</p>

<p>11. A gentleman’s title suggests to him humility and
affability; to be easy of access, to pass by neglects and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">{189}</a></span>
offences, especially from inferiors; neither to despise any
for their bad fortune or misery, nor to be afraid to own
those who are unjustly oppressed; not to domineer over
inferiors, nor to be either disrespectful or cringing to
superiors; not standing upon his family name, or wealth,
but making these secondary to his attainments in civility,
industry, gentleness, and discretion.</p>

<p>12. Chesterfield says, “All ceremonies are, in themselves,
very silly things; but yet a man of the world
should know them. They are the outworks of manners,
which would be too often broken in upon if it were not
for that defence which keeps the enemy at a proper distance.
It is for that reason I always treat fools and
coxcombs with great ceremony, true good breeding not
being a sufficient barrier against them.”</p>

<p>13. When you meet a lady at the foot of a flight of
stairs, do not wait for her to ascend, but bow, and go up
before her.</p>

<p>14. In meeting a lady at the head of a flight of stairs,
wait for her to precede you in the descent.</p>

<p>15. Avoid slang. It does not beautify, but it sullies
conversation. “Just listen, for a moment, to our fast
young man, or the ape of a fast young man, who thinks
that to be a man he must speak in the dark phraseology
of slang. If he does anything on his own responsibility,
he does it on his own ‘hook.’ If he sees anything remarkably
good, he calls it a ‘stunner,’ the superlative
of which is a ‘regular stunner.’ If a man is requested
to pay a tavern bill, he is asked if he will ‘stand Sam.’
If he meets a savage-looking dog, he calls him an ‘ugly
customer.’ If he meets an eccentric man, he calls him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">{190}</a></span>
a ‘rummy old cove.’ A sensible man is a ‘chap that is
up to snuff.’ Our young friend never scolds, but ‘blows
up;’ never pays, but ‘stumps up;’ never finds it too difficult
to pay, but is ‘hard up.’ He has no hat, but
shelters his head beneath a ‘tile.’ He wears no neckcloth,
but surrounds his throat with a ‘choker.’ He
lives nowhere, but there is some place where he ‘hangs
out.’ He never goes away or withdraws, but he ‘bolts’&mdash;he
‘slopes’&mdash;he ‘mizzles’&mdash;he ‘makes himself scarce’&mdash;he
‘walks his chalks’&mdash;he ‘makes tracks’&mdash;he ‘cuts
stick’&mdash;or, what is the same thing, he ‘cuts his lucky!’
The highest compliment that you can pay him is to tell
him that he is a ‘regular brick.’ He does not profess to
be brave, but he prides himself on being ‘plucky.’
Money is a word which he has forgotten, but he talks a
good deal about ‘tin,’ and the ‘needful,’ ‘the rhino,’ and
‘the ready.’ When a man speaks, he ‘spouts;’ when he
holds his peace, he ‘shuts up;’ when he is humiliated, he
is ‘taken down a peg or two,’ and made to ‘sing small.’
Now, besides the vulgarity of such expressions, there is
much in slang that is objectionable in a moral point of
view. For example, the word ‘governor,’ as applied to
a father, is to be reprehended. Does it not betray, on
the part of young men, great ignorance of the paternal
and filial relationship, or great contempt for them?
Their father is to such young men merely a governor,&mdash;merely
a representative of authority. Innocently enough
the expression is used by thousands of young men who
venerate and love their parents; but only think of it,
and I am sure that you will admit that it is a cold,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">{191}</a></span>
heartless word when thus applied, and one that ought
forthwith to be abandoned.”</p>

<p>16. There are few traits of social life more repulsive
than tyranny. I refer not to the wrongs, real or imaginary,
that engage our attention in ancient and modern
history; my tyrants are not those who have waded
through blood to thrones, and grievously oppress their
brother men. I speak of the <em>petty</em> tyrants of the fireside
and the social circle, who trample like very despots
on the opinions of their fellows. You meet people of
this class everywhere; they stalk by your side in the
streets; they seat themselves in the pleasant circle on
the hearth, casting a gloom on gayety; and they start
up dark and scowling in the midst of scenes of innocent
mirth, to chill and frown down every participator.
They “pooh! pooh!” at every opinion advanced; they
make the lives of their mothers, sisters, wives, children,
unbearable. Beware then of tyranny. A gentleman
is ever humble, and the tyrant is never courteous.</p>

<p>17. Cultivate the virtues of the soul, strong principle,
incorruptible integrity, usefulness, refined intellect, and
fidelity in seeking for truth. A man in proportion as
he has these virtues will be honored and welcomed everywhere.</p>

<p>18. Gentility is neither in birth, wealth, or fashion,
but in the mind. A high sense of honor, a determination
never to take a mean advantage of another, adherence
to truth, delicacy and politeness towards those
with whom we hold intercourse, are the essential characteristics
of a gentleman.</p>

<p>19. Little attentions to your mother, your wife, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">{192}</a></span>
your sister, will beget much love. The man who is a
rude husband, son, and brother, cannot be a gentleman;
he may ape the manners of one, but, wanting the refinement
of heart that would make him courteous at home,
his politeness is but a thin cloak to cover a rude, unpolished
mind.</p>

<p>20. At table, always eat slowly, but do not delay
those around you by toying with your food, or neglecting
the business before you to chat, till all the others
are ready to leave the table, but must wait until you repair
your negligence, by hastily swallowing your food.</p>

<p>21. Are you a husband? Custom entitles you to be
the “lord and master” over your household. But don’t
assume the <em>master</em> and sink the <em>lord</em>. Remember that
noble generosity, forbearance, amiability, and integrity
are the <em>lordly</em> attributes of man. As a husband, therefore,
exhibit the true nobility of man, and seek to govern
your household by the display of high moral excellence.</p>

<p>A domineering spirit&mdash;a fault-finding petulance&mdash;impatience
of trifling delays&mdash;and the exhibition of unworthy
passion at the slightest provocation can add no
laurel to your own “lordly” brow, impart no sweetness
to home, and call forth no respect from those by whom
you may be surrounded. It is one thing to be a <em>master</em>,
another to be a <em>man</em>. The latter should be the husband’s
aspiration; for he who cannot govern himself, is
ill-qualified to rule others. You can hardly imagine
how refreshing it is to occasionally call up the recollection
of your courting days. How tediously the hours
rolled away prior to the appointed time of meeting; how
swift they seemed to fly, when met; how fond was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">{193}</a></span>
first greeting; how tender the last embrace; how fervent
were your vows; how vivid your dreams of future happiness,
when, returning to your home, you felt yourself
secure in the confessed love of the object of your warm
affections! Is your dream realized?&mdash;are you so happy
as you expected?&mdash;why not? Consider whether as a
husband you are as fervent and constant as you were
when a lover. Remember that the wife’s claims to your
unremitting regard&mdash;great before marriage, are now exalted
to a much higher degree. She has left the world
for you&mdash;the home of her childhood, the fireside of her
parents, their watchful care and sweet intercourse have
all been yielded up for you. Look then most jealously
upon all that may tend to attract you from home, and
to weaken that union upon which your temporal happiness
mainly depends; and believe that in the solemn relationship
of <em class="ucsmcap">HUSBAND</em> is to be found one of the best
guarantees for man’s honor and happiness.</p>

<p>22. Perhaps the true definition of a gentleman is this:
“Whoever is open, loyal, and true; whoever is of humane
and affable demeanor; whoever is honorable in
himself, and in his judgment of others, and requires no
law but his word to make him fulfil an engagement; such
a man is a gentleman, be he in the highest or lowest
rank of life, a man of elegant refinement and intellect,
or the most unpolished tiller of the ground.”</p>

<p>23. In the street, etiquette does not require a gentleman
to take off his glove to shake hands with a lady,
unless her hand is uncovered. In the house, however,
the rule is imperative, he must not offer a lady a gloved
hand. In the street, if his hand be very warm or very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">{194}</a></span>
cold, or the glove cannot be readily removed, it is much
better to offer the covered hand than to offend the lady’s
touch, or delay the salutation during an awkward fumble
to remove the glove.</p>

<p>24. Sterne says, “True courtship consists in a number
of quiet, gentlemanly attentions, not so pointed as to
alarm, not so vague as to be misunderstood.” A clown
will terrify by his boldness, a proud man chill by his reserve,
but a gentleman will win by the happy mixture
of the two.</p>

<p>25. Use no profane language, utter no word that will
cause the most virtuous to blush. Profanity is a mark of
low breeding; and the tendency of using indecent and
profane language is degrading to your minds. Its injurious
effects may not be felt at the moment, but they
will continue to manifest themselves to you through life.
They may never be obliterated; and, if you allow
the fault to become habitual, you will often find at your
tongue’s end some expressions which you would not use
for any money. By being careful on this point you may
save yourself much mortification and sorrow.</p>

<p>“Good men have been taken sick and become delirious.
In these moments they have used the most vile
and indecent language. When informed of it, after a
restoration to health, they had no idea of the pain they
had given to their friends, and stated that they had
learned and repeated the expressions in childhood, and
though years had passed since they had spoken a bad
word, the early impressions had been indelibly stamped
upon the mind.”</p>

<p>Think of this, ye who are tempted to use improper<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">{195}</a></span>
language, and never let a vile word disgrace you. An
oath never falls from the tongue of the man who commands
respect.</p>

<p>Honesty, frankness, generosity, and virtue are noble
traits. Let these be yours, and do not fear. You will
then claim the esteem and love of all.</p>

<p>26. Courteous and friendly conduct may, probably will,
sometimes meet with an unworthy and ungrateful return;
but the absence of gratitude and similar courtesy on the
part of the receiver cannot destroy the self-approbation
which recompenses the giver. We may scatter the seeds
of courtesy and kindness around us at little expense.
Some of them will inevitably fall on good ground, and
grow up into benevolence in the minds of others, and all
of them will bear the fruit of happiness in the bosom
whence they spring. A kindly action always fixes itself
on the heart of the truly thoughtful and polite man.</p>

<p>27. Learn to restrain anger. A man in a passion
ceases to be a gentleman, and if you do not control your
passions, rely upon it, they will one day control you.
The intoxication of anger, like that of the grape, shows
us to others, but hides us from ourselves, and we injure
our own cause in the opinion of the world when we <em>too</em>
passionately and eagerly defend it. Neither will all
men be disposed to view our quarrels in the same light
that we do; and a man’s blindness to his own defects
will ever increase in proportion as he is angry with
others, or pleased with himself. An old English writer
says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“As a preventative of anger, banish all tale-bearers
and slanderers from your conversation, for it is these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">{196}</a></span>
blow the devil’s bellows to rouse up the flames of rage
and fury, by first abusing your ears, and then your credulity,
and after that steal away your patience, and all
this, perhaps, for a lie. To prevent anger, be not too
inquisitive into the affairs of others, or what people say
of yourself, or into the mistakes of your friends, for this
is going out to gather sticks to kindle a fire to burn
your own house.”</p>

<p>28. Keep good company or none. You will lose your
own self-respect, and habits of courtesy sooner and
more effectually by intercourse with low company, than
in any other manner; while, in good company, these
virtues will be cultivated and become habitual.</p>

<p>29. Keep your engagements. Nothing is ruder than
to make an engagement, be it of business or pleasure,
and break it. If your memory is not sufficiently retentive
to keep all the engagements you make stored within
it, carry a little memorandum book and enter them there.
Especially, keep any appointment made with a lady,
for, depend upon it, the fair sex forgive any other fault
in good breeding, sooner than a broken engagement.</p>

<p>30. Avoid personality; nothing is more ungentlemanly.
The tone of good company is marked by its
entire absence. Among well-informed persons there are
plenty of topics to discuss, without giving pain to any
one present.</p>

<p>31. Make it a rule to be always punctual in keeping
an appointment, and, when it is convenient, be a little
beforehand. Such a habit ensures that composure and
ease which is the very essence of gentlemanly deportment;
want of it keeps you always in a fever and bustle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">{197}</a></span>
and no man who is hurried and feverish appears so well
as he whose punctuality keeps him cool and composed.</p>

<p>32. It is right to cultivate a laudable ambition, but do
not exaggerate your capacity. The world will not give
you credit for half what you esteem yourself. Some men
think it so much gained to pass for more than they are
worth; but in most cases the deception will be discovered,
sooner or later, and the rebound will be greater than the
gain. We may, therefore, set it down as a truth, that
it is a damage to a man to have credit for greater powers
than he possesses.</p>

<p>33. Be ready to apologize when you have committed
a fault which gives offence. Better, far better, to retain
a friend by a frank, courteous apology for offence given,
than to make an enemy by obstinately denying or persisting
in the fault.</p>

<p>34. An apology made to yourself must be accepted.
No matter how great the offence, a gentleman cannot
keep his anger after an apology has been made, and
thus, amongst truly well-bred men, an apology is always
accepted.</p>

<p>35. Unless you have something of real importance to
ask or communicate, do not stop a gentleman in the
street during business hours. You may detain him
from important engagements, and, though he may be too
well-bred to show annoyance, he will not thank you for
such detention.</p>

<p>36. If, when on your way to fulfil an engagement, a
friend stops you in the street, you may, without committing
any breach of etiquette, tell him of your appointment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">{198}</a></span>
and release yourself from a long talk, but do so in
a courteous manner, expressing regret for the necessity.</p>

<p>37. If, when meeting two gentlemen, you are obliged
to detain one of them, apologize to the other for so
doing, whether he is an acquaintance or a stranger, and
do not keep him waiting a moment longer than is necessary.</p>

<p>38. Have you a sister? Then love and cherish her
with all that pure and holy friendship which renders a
brother so worthy and noble. Learn to appreciate her
sweet influence as portrayed in the following words:</p>

<p>“He who has never known a sister’s kind administration,
nor felt his heart warming beneath her endearing
smile and love-beaming eye, has been unfortunate indeed.
It is not to be wondered at if the fountains of pure feeling
flow in his bosom but sluggishly, or if the gentle
emotions of his nature be lost in the sterner attributes
of mankind.</p>

<p>“‘That man has grown up among affectionate sisters,’
I once heard a lady of much observation and experience
remark.</p>

<p>“‘And why do you think so?’ said I.</p>

<p>“‘Because of the rich development of all the tender
feelings of the heart.’</p>

<p>“A sister’s influence is felt even in manhood’s riper
years; and the heart of him who has grown cold in
chilly contact with the world will warm and thrill with
pure enjoyment as some accident awakens within him
the soft tones, the glad melodies of his sister’s voice;
and he will turn from purposes which a warped and false
philosophy had reasoned into expediency, and even weep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">{199}</a></span>
for the gentle influences which moved him in his earlier
years.”</p>

<p>The man who would treat a sister with harshness,
rudeness, or disrespect, is unworthy of the name of gentleman,
for he thus proves that the courtesies he extends
to other ladies, are not the promptings of the heart, but
the mere external signs of etiquette; the husk without
the sweet fruit within.</p>

<p>39. When walking with a friend in the street, never
leave him to speak to another friend without apologizing
for so doing.</p>

<p>40. If walking with a lady, never leave her alone in
the street, under any circumstances. It is a gross violation
of etiquette to do so.</p>

<p>41. The most truly gentlemanly man is he who is the
most unselfish, so I would say in the words of the
Rev. J. A. James:</p>

<p>“Live for some purpose in the world. Act your part
well. Fill up the measure of duty to others. Conduct
yourselves so that you shall be missed with sorrow when
you are gone. Multitudes of our species are living in
such a selfish manner that they are not likely to be remembered
after their disappearance. They leave behind
them scarcely any traces of their existence, but are forgotten
almost as though they had never been. They are
while they live, like one pebble lying unobserved amongst
a million on the shore; and when they die, they are like
that same pebble thrown into the sea, which just ruffles
the surface, sinks, and is forgotten, without being missed
from the beach. They are neither regretted by the rich,
wanted by the poor, nor celebrated by the learned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">{200}</a></span>
Who has been the better for their life? Who has been
the worse for their death? Whose tears have they dried
up? whose wants supplied? whose miseries have they
healed? Who would unbar the gate of life, to re-admit
them to existence? or what face would greet them back
again to our world with a smile? Wretched, unproductive
mode of existence! Selfishness is its own curse;
it is a starving vice. The man who does no good, gets
none. He is like the heath in the desert, neither yielding
fruit, nor seeing when good cometh&mdash;a stunted,
dwarfish, miserable shrub.”</p>

<p>42. Separate the syllables of the word gentleman, and
you will see that the first requisite must be gentleness&mdash;<em>gentle</em>-man.
Mackenzie says, “Few persons are sufficiently
aware of the power of gentleness. It is slow in
working, but it is infallible in its results. It makes no
noise; it neither invites attention, nor provokes resistance;
but it is God’s great law, in the moral as in the
natural world, for accomplishing great results. The
progressive dawn of day, the flow of the tide, the lapse
of time, the changes of the seasons&mdash;these are carried
on by slow and imperceptible degrees, yet their progress
and issue none can mistake or resist. Equally certain
and surprising are the triumphs of gentleness. It assumes
nothing, yet it can disarm the stoutest opposition;
it yields, but yielding is the element of its strength; it
endures, but in the warfare victory is not gained by doing,
but by suffering.”</p>

<p>43. Perfect composure of manner requires perfect
peace of mind, so you should, as far as lies in human
power, avoid the evils which make an unquiet mind, and,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">{201}</a></span>
first of all, avoid that cheating, swindling process called
“running in debt.” Owe no man anything; avoid it as
you would avoid war, pestilence, and famine. Hate it
with a perfect hatred. As you value comfort, quiet, and
independence, keep out of debt. As you value a healthy
appetite, placid temper, pleasant dreams, and happy
wakings, keep out of debt. It is the hardest of all
task-masters; the most cruel of all oppressors. It is a
mill-stone about the neck. It is an incubus on the
heart. It furrows the forehead with premature wrinkles.
It drags the nobleness and kindness out of the port and
bearing of a man; it takes the soul out of his laugh, and
all stateliness and freedom from his walk. Come not,
then, under its crushing dominion.</p>

<p>44. Speak gently; a kind refusal will often wound
less than a rough, ungracious assent.</p>

<p>45. “In private, watch your thoughts; in your family,
watch your temper; in society, watch your tongue.”</p>

<p>46. The true secret of pleasing all the world, is to
have an humble opinion of yourself. True goodness is
invariably accompanied by gentleness, courtesy, and humility.
Those people who are always “sticking on their
dignity,” are continually losing friends, making enemies,
and fostering a spirit of unhappiness in themselves.</p>

<p>47. Are you a merchant? Remember that the counting-house
is no less a school of manners and temper than
a school of morals. Vulgarity, imperiousness, peevishness,
caprice on the part of the heads, will produce their
corresponding effects upon the household. Some merchants
are petty tyrants. Some are too surly to be fit
for any charge, unless it be that of taming a shrew.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">{202}</a></span>
The coarseness of others, in manner and language, must
either disgust or contaminate all their subordinates. In
one establishment you will encounter an unmanly levity,
which precludes all discipline. In another, a mock dignity,
which supplies the juveniles with a standing theme
of ridicule. In a third, a capriciousness of mood and
temper, which reminds one of the prophetic hints of the
weather in the old almanacks&mdash;“windy”&mdash;“cool”&mdash;“very
pleasant”&mdash;“blustering”&mdash;“look out for storms”&mdash;and
the like. And, in a fourth, a selfish acerbity,
which exacts the most unreasonable services, and never
cheers a clerk with a word of encouragement.&mdash;These
are sad infirmities. Men ought not to have clerks until
they know how to treat them. Their own comfort, too,
would be greatly enhanced by a different deportment.</p>

<p>48. If you are about to enter, or leave, a store or any
door, and unexpectedly meet a lady going the other way,
stand aside and raise your hat whilst she passes. If she
is going the same way, and the door is closed, pass before
her, saying, “allow me,” or, “permit me,”&mdash;open
the door, and hold it open whilst she passes.</p>

<p>49. In entering a room where you will meet ladies,
take your hat, cane, and gloves in your left hand, that
your right may be free to offer to them.</p>

<p>50. Never offer to shake hands with a lady; she will,
if she wishes you to do so, offer her hand to you, and it
is an impertinence for you to do so first.</p>

<p>51. If you are seated in the most comfortable chair
in a public room, and a lady, an invalid, or an old man
enters, rise, and offer your seat, even if they are
strangers to you. Many men will attend to these civilities<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">{203}</a></span>
when with friends or acquaintances, and neglect
them amongst strangers, but the true gentleman will not
wait for an introduction before performing an act of
courtesy.</p>

<p>52. As both flattery and slander are in the highest
degree blameable and ungentlemanly, I would quote the
rule of Bishop Beveridge, which effectually prevents both.
He says, “Never speak of a man’s virtue before his
face, nor of his faults behind his back.”</p>

<p>53. Never enter a room, in which there are ladies,
after smoking, until you have purified both your mouth,
teeth, hair, and clothes. If you wish to smoke just before
entering a saloon, wear an old coat and carefully
brush your hair and teeth before resuming your own.</p>

<p>54. Never endeavor to attract the attention of a
friend by nudging him, touching his foot or hand secretly,
or making him a gesture. If you cannot speak
to him frankly, you had best let him alone; for these
signals are generally made with the intention of ridiculing
a third person, and that is the height of rudeness.</p>

<p>55. Button-holding is a common but most blameable
breach of good manners. If a man requires to be forcibly
detained to listen to you, you are as rude in thus detaining
him, as if you had put a pistol to his head and
threatened to blow his brains out if he stirred.</p>

<p>56. It is a great piece of rudeness to make a remark
in general company, which is intelligible to one person
only. To call out, “George, I met D. L. yesterday,
and he says he will attend to that matter,” is as bad as
if you went to George and whispered in his ear.</p>

<p>57. In your intercourse with servants, nothing will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">{204}</a></span>
mark you as a well-bred man, so much as a gentle,
courteous manner. A request will make your wishes attended
to as quickly as a command, and thanks for a
service, oil the springs of the servant’s labor immensely.
Rough, harsh commands may make your orders obeyed
well and promptly, but they will be executed unwillingly,
in fear, and, probably, dislike, while courtesy and kindness
will win a willing spirit as well as prompt service.</p>

<p>58. Avoid eccentric conduct. It does not, as many suppose,
mark a man of genius. Most men of true genius
are gentlemanly and reserved in their intercourse with
other men, and there are many fools whose folly is called
eccentricity.</p>

<p>59. Avoid familiarity. Neither treat others with too
great cordiality nor suffer them to take liberties with
you. To check the familiarity of others, you need not
become stiff, sullen, nor cold, but you will find that excessive
politeness on your own part, sometimes with a
little formality, will soon abash the intruder.</p>

<p>60. Lazy, lounging attitudes in the presence of ladies
are very rude.</p>

<p>61. It is only the most arrant coxcomb who will boast
of the favor shown him by a lady, speak of her by her
first name, or allow others to jest with him upon his
friendship or admiration for her. If he really admires
her, and has reason to hope for a future engagement with
her, her name should be as sacred to him as if she were
already his wife; if, on the contrary, he is not on intimate
terms with her, then he adds a lie to his excessively
bad breeding, when using her name familiarly.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">{205}</a></span>
62. “He that can please nobody is not so much to be
pitied as he that nobody can please.”</p>

<p>63. Speak without obscurity or affectation. The first
is a mark of pedantry, the second a sign of folly. A
wise man will speak always clearly and intelligibly.</p>

<p>64. To betray a confidence is to make yourself despicable.
Many things are said among friends which are
not said under a seal of secrecy, but are understood to
be confidential, and a truly honorable man will never
violate this tacit confidence. It is really as sacred as if
the most solemn promises of silence bound your tongue;
more so, indeed, to the true gentleman, as his sense of
honor, not his word, binds him.</p>

<p>65. Chesterfield says, “As learning, honor, and virtue
are absolutely necessary to gain you the esteem and admiration
of mankind, politeness and good breeding are
equally necessary to make you welcome and agreeable
in conversation and common life. Great talents, such
as honor, virtue, learning, and parts are above the generality
of the world, who neither possess them themselves
nor judge of them rightly in others; but all people
are judges of the lesser talents, such as civility, affability,
and an obliging, agreeable address and manner;
because they feel the good effects of them, as making
society easy and pleasing.”</p>

<p>66. “Good sense must, in many cases, determine good
breeding; because the same thing that would be civil at
one time and to one person, may be quite otherwise at
another time and to another person.”</p>

<p>67. Nothing can be more ill-bred than to meet a polite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">{206}</a></span>
remark addressed to you, either with inattention or a
rude answer.</p>

<p>68. Spirit is now a very fashionable word, but it is
terribly misapplied. In the present day to act with spirit
and speak with spirit means to act rashly and speak indiscretely.
A gentleman shows his spirit by firm, but
gentle words and resolute actions. He is spirited but
neither rash nor timid.</p>

<p>69. “Use kind words. They do not cost much. It
does not take long to utter them. They never blister
the tongue or lips in their passage into the world, or occasion
any other kind of bodily suffering. And we have
never heard of any mental trouble arising from this
quarter.</p>

<p>“Though they do not <em class="ucsmcap">COST</em> much, yet they <em class="ucsmcap">ACCOMPLISH</em>
much. They help one’s own good nature and good will.
One cannot be in a habit of this kind, without thereby
picking away something of the granite roughness of his
own nature. Soft words will soften his own soul. Philosophers
tell us that the angry words a man uses, in his
passion, are fuel to the flame of his wrath, and make it
blaze the more fiercely. Why, then, should not words
of the opposite character produce opposite results, and
that most blessed of all passions of the soul, kindness,
be augmented by kind words? People that are forever
speaking kindly, are forever disinclining themselves to
ill-temper.</p>

<p>“Kind words make other people good natured. Cold
words freeze people, and hot words scorch them, and
sarcastic words irritate them, and bitter words make
them bitter, and wrathful words make them wrathful.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">{207}</a></span>
And kind words also produce their own image on men’s
souls. And a beautiful image it is. They soothe, and
quiet, and comfort the hearer. They shame him out of
his sour, morose, unkind feelings, and he has to become
kind himself.</p>

<p>“There is such a rush of all other kind of words, in
our days, that it seems desirable to give kind words a
chance among them. There are vain words, and idle
words, and hasty words, and spiteful words, and silly
words, and empty words. Now, kind words are better
than the whole of them, and it is a pity that, among the
improvements of the present age, birds of this feather
might not have more chance than they have had to spread
their wings.</p>

<p>“Kind words are in danger of being driven from the
field, like frightened pigeons, in these days of boisterous
words, and warlike words, and passionate words. They
have not the brass to stand up, like so many grenadiers,
and fight their own way among the throng. Besides,
they have been out of use so long, that they hardly know
whether they have any right to make their appearance
any more in our bustling world; not knowing but that,
perhaps, the world was done with them, and would not
like their company any more.</p>

<p>“Let us welcome them back. We have not done with
them. We have not yet begun to use them in such
abundance as they ought to be used. We cannot spare
them.”</p>

<p>70. The first step towards pleasing every one is to
endeavor to offend no one. To give pain by a light or
jesting remark is as much a breach of etiquette, as to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">{208}</a></span>
give pain by a wound made with a steel weapon, is a
breach of humanity.</p>

<p>71. “A gentleman will never use his tongue to rail
and brawl against any one; to speak evil of others in
their absence; to exaggerate any of his statements; to
speak harshly to children or to the poor; to swear, lie,
or use improper language; to hazard random and improbable
statements; to speak rashly or violently upon
any subject; to deceive people by circulating false reports,
or to offer up <em>lip</em>-service in religion. But he will use it
to convey to mankind useful information; to instruct his
family and others who need it; to warn and reprove the
wicked; to comfort and console the afflicted; to cheer
the timid and fearful; to defend the innocent and oppressed;
to plead for the widow and orphan; to congratulate
the success of the virtuous, and to confess,
tearfully and prayerfully, his faults.”</p>

<p>72. Chesterfield says, “Civility is particularly due to
all women; and, remember, that no provocation whatsoever
can justify any man in not being civil to every
woman; and the greatest man would justly be reckoned
a brute if he were not civil to the meanest woman. It
is due to their sex, and is the only protection they have
against the superior strength of ours; nay, even a little
is allowable with women: and a man may, without
weakness, tell a women she is either handsomer or wiser
than she is.” (Chesterfield would not have said this in
the present age of strong minded, sensible women.)</p>

<p>73. There is much tact and good breeding to be displayed
in the correction of any little error that may
occur in conversation. To say, shortly,&mdash;“You are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">{209}</a></span>
wrong! I know better!” is rude, and your friends will
much more readily admit an error if you say courteously
and gently, “Pardon me, but I must take the liberty of
correcting you,” or, “You will allow me, I am sure, to
tell you that your informant made an error.” If such
an error is of no real importance, it is better to let it
pass unnoticed.</p>

<p>74. Intimate friends and relations should be careful
when they go out into the world together, or admit
others to their own circle, that they do not make a bad
use of the knowledge which they have gained of each
other by their intimacy. Nothing is more common than
this; and, did it not mostly proceed from mere carelessness,
it would be superlatively ungenerous. You seldom
need wait for the written life of a man to hear about his
weaknesses, or what are supposed to be such, if you know
his intimate friends, or meet him in company with them.</p>

<p>75. In making your first visit anywhere, you will be
less apt to offend by being too ceremonious, than by
being too familiar.</p>

<p>76. With your friends remember the old proverb, that,
“Familiarity breeds contempt.”</p>

<p>77. If you meet, in society, with any one, be it a
gentleman or a lady, whose timidity or bashfulness,
shows them unaccustomed to meeting others, endeavor,
by your own gentleness and courtesy, to place them more
at ease, and introduce to them those who will aid you in
this endeavor.</p>

<p>78. If, when walking with a gentleman friend, you
meet a lady to whom your friend bows, you, too, must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">{210}</a></span>
touch or raise your hat, though you are not acquainted
with the lady.</p>

<p>79. “Although it is now very much the custom, in
many wealthy families, for the butler to remove the
dishes from the table and carve them on the sideboard,
thus saving trouble to the master or mistress of the
house, and time to the guests, the practice is not so general
even amongst what are called the higher classes of
society that general instructions for carving will be uninteresting
to them, to say nothing of the more numerous
class, who, although enabled to place good dishes before
their friends, are not wealthy enough to keep a butler
if they were so inclined. Good carving is, to a certain
extent, indicative of good society, for it proves to company
that the host does not give a dinner party for the
first time, but is accustomed to receive friends, and frequently
to dispense the cheer of a hospitable board.
The master or mistress of a house, who does not know
how to carve, is not unfrequently looked upon as an ignorant
<i>parvenu</i>, as a person who cannot take a hand at
whist, in good society, is regarded as one who has passed
his time in the parlor of a public house, playing at cribbage
or all fours. Independently, however, of the importance
of knowing how to carve well, for the purpose
of regaling one’s friends and acquaintances, the science,
and it is a science, is a valuable acquirement for any
man, as it enables him, at a public or private dinner, to
render valuable aid. There are many diners-out who
are welcome merely because they know how to carve.
Some men amuse by their conversation; others are favorites
because they can sing a good song; but the man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">{211}</a></span>
who makes himself useful and agreeable to all, is he who
carves with elegance and speed. We recommend the
novice in this art, to keep a watchful eye upon every superior
carver whom he may meet at dinner. In this way
he will soon become well versed in the art and mystery
of cutting up.”</p>

<p>80. Years may pass over our heads without affording
an opportunity for acts of high beneficence or extensive
utility; whereas, not a day passes, but in common transactions
of life, and, especially in the intercourse of society,
courtesy finds place for promoting the happiness
of others, and for strengthening in ourselves the habits
of unselfish politeness. There are situations, not a few,
in human life, when an encouraging reception, a condescending
behaviour, and a look of sympathy, bring
greater relief to the heart than the most bountiful gift.</p>

<p>81. Cecil says, “You may easily make a sensation&mdash;but
a sensation is a vulgar triumph. To keep up the
sensation of an excitement, you must be always standing
on your head (morally speaking), and the attitude, like
everything overstrained, would become fatiguing to yourself
and tedious to others. Whereas, to obtain permanent
favor, as an agreeable, well-bred man, requires
simply an exercise of the understanding.”</p>

<p>82. There is no vice more truly ungentlemanly than
that of using profane language. Lamont says:</p>

<p>“Whatever fortune may be made by perjury, I believe
there never was a man who made a fortune by common
swearing. It often appears that men pay for swearing,
but it seldom happens that they are paid for it. It is
not easy to perceive what honor or credit is connected<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">{212}</a></span>
with it. Does any man receive promotion because he is
a notable blusterer? Or is any man advanced to dignity
because he is expert at profane swearing? Never. Low
must be the character which such impertinence will
exalt: high must be the character which such impertinence
will not degrade. Inexcusable, therefore, must
be the practice which has neither reason nor passion to
support it. The drunkard has his cups; the satirist, his
revenge; the ambitious man, his preferments; the miser,
his gold; but the common swearer has nothing; he is a
fool at large, sells his soul for nought, and drudges in
the service of the devil gratis. Swearing is void of all
plea; it is not the native offspring of the soul, nor interwoven
with the texture of the body, nor, anyhow, allied
to our frame. For, as Tillotson expresses it, ‘Though
some men pour out oaths as if they were natural, yet no
man was ever born of a swearing constitution.’ But it
is a custom, a low and a paltry custom, picked up by low
and paltry spirits who have no sense of honor, no regard
to decency, but are forced to substitute some rhapsody
of nonsense to supply the vacancy of good sense.
Hence, the silliness of the practice can only be equalled
by the silliness of those who adopt it.”</p>

<p>83. Dr. Johnson says that to converse well “there
must, in the first place, be knowledge&mdash;there must be
materials; in the second place, there must be a command
of words; in the third place, there must be imagination
to place things in such views as they are not commonly
seen in; and, in the fourth place, there must be a
presence of mind, and a resolution that is not to be overcome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">{213}</a></span>
by failure&mdash;this last is an essential requisite; for
want of it, many people do not excel in conversation.”</p>

<p>84. “Do not constantly endeavor to draw the attention
of all upon yourself when in company. Leave room
for your hearers to imagine something within you beyond
what you speak; and, remember, the more you are
praised the more you will be envied.”</p>

<p>85. Be very careful to treat with attention and respect
those who have lately met with misfortunes, or
have suffered from loss of fortune. Such persons are
apt to think themselves slighted, when no such thing is
intended. Their minds, being already sore, feel the
least rub very severely, and who would thus cruelly add
affliction to the afflicted? Not the <em>gentleman</em> certainly.</p>

<p>86. There is hardly any bodily blemish which a winning
behavior will not conceal or make tolerable; and
there is no external grace which ill-nature or affectation
will not deform.</p>

<p>87. Good humor is the only shield to keep off the
darts of the satirist; but if you are the first to laugh at
a jest made upon yourself, others will laugh <em>with</em> you
instead of <em>at</em> you.</p>

<p>88. Whenever you see a person insult his inferiors,
you may feel assured that he is the man who will be
servile and cringing to his superiors; and he who acts
the bully to the weak, will play the coward when with
the strong.</p>

<p>89. Maintain, in every word, a strict regard for
perfect truth. Do not think of one falsity as harmless,
another as slight, a third as unintended. Cast them all
aside. They may be light and accidental, but they are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">{214}</a></span>
an ugly soot from the smoke of the pit for all that, and
it is better to have your heart swept clean of them,
without stopping to consider whether they are large and
black.</p>

<p>90. The advantage and necessity of cheerfulness and
intelligent intercourse with the world is strongly to be
recommended. A man who keeps aloof from society and
lives only for himself, does not fulfil the wise intentions
of Providence, who designed that we should be a mutual
help and comfort to each other in life.</p>

<p>91. Chesterfield says, “Merit and good breeding will
make their way everywhere. Knowledge will introduce
man, and good breeding will endear him to the best
companies; for, politeness and good breeding are absolutely
necessary to adorn any, or all, other good qualities
or talents. Without them, no knowledge, no perfection
whatever, is seen in its best light. The scholar, without
good breeding, is a pedant; the philosopher, a cynic;
the soldier, a brute; and every man disagreeable.”</p>

<p>92. It is very seldom that a man may permit himself
to tell stories in society; they are, generally,
tedious, and, to many present, will probably have all the
weariness of a “twice-told tale.” A short, brilliant anecdote,
which is especially applicable to the conversation
going on, is all that a well-bred man will ever permit
himself to inflict.</p>

<p>93. It is better to take the tone of the society into
which you are thrown, than to endeavor to lead others
after you. The way to become truly popular is to be
grave with the grave, jest with the gay, and converse
sensibly with those who seek to display their sense.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">{215}</a></span>
94. Watch each of your actions, when in society, that
all the habits which you contract there may be useful
and good ones. Like flakes of snow that fall unperceived
upon the earth, the seemingly unimportant
events of life succeed one another. As the snow gathers
together, so are our habits formed. No single flake that
is added to the pile produces a sensible change&mdash;no single
action creates, however it may exhibit, a man’s character;
but, as the tempest hurls the avalanche down the mountain,
and overwhelms the inhabitant and his habitation,
so passion, acting upon the elements of mischief, which
pernicious habits have brought together by imperceptible
accumulation, may overthrow the edifice of truth and
virtue.</p>

<p>95. There is no greater fault in good breeding than
too great diffidence. Shyness cramps every motion,
clogs every word. The only way to overcome the fault
is to mix constantly in society, and the habitual intercourse
with others will give you the graceful ease of
manner which shyness utterly destroys.</p>

<p>96. If you are obliged to leave a large company at
an early hour, take French leave. Slip away unperceived,
if you can, but, at any rate, without any formal
leave-taking.</p>

<p>97. Avoid quarrels. If you are convinced, even, that
you have the right side in an argument, yield your
opinion gracefully, if this is the only way to avoid a
quarrel, saying, “We cannot agree, I see, but this inability
must not deprive me of a friend, so we will discuss
the subject no further.” Few men will be able to resist
your courtesy and good nature, but many would try to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">{216}</a></span>
combat an obstinate adherence to your own side of the
question.</p>

<p>98. Avoid the filthy habit of which foreigners in this
country so justly complain&mdash;I mean spitting.</p>

<p>99. If any one bows to you in the street, return the
bow. It may be an acquaintance whose face you do
not immediately recognize, and if it is a stranger who
mistakes you for another, your courteous bow will relieve
him from the embarrassment arising from his mistake.</p>

<p>100. The following hints on conversation conclude the
chapter:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Conversation may be carried on successfully by persons
who have no idea that it is or may be an art, as
clever things are sometimes done without study. But
there can be no certainty of good conversation in ordinary
circumstances, and amongst ordinary minds,
unless certain rules be observed, and certain errors be
avoided.</p>

<p>“The first and greatest rule unquestionably is, that
all must be favorably disposed towards each other, and
willing to be pleased. There must be no sullen or uneasy-looking
person&mdash;no one who evidently thinks he
has fallen into unsuitable company, and whose sole aim
it is to take care lest his dignity be injured&mdash;no one
whose feelings are of so morose or ascetic a kind that he
cannot join without observable pain and hesitation in the
playfulness of the scene&mdash;no matter-of-fact person, who
takes all things literally, and means all things literally,
and thinks it as great a crime to say something in jest
as to do it in earnest. One of any of these classes
of persons is sufficient to mar the enjoyments of a hundred.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">{217}</a></span>
The matter-of-factish may do very well with the
matter-of-factish, the morose with the morose, the stilted
with the stilted; and they should accordingly keep
amongst themselves respectively. But, for what is generally
recognized as agreeable conversation, minds exempted
from these peculiarities are required.</p>

<p>“The ordinary rules of politeness are, of course, necessary&mdash;no
rudeness, no offence to each other’s self-esteem;
on the contrary, much mutual deference is required,
in order to keep all the elements of a company
sweet. Sometimes, however, there is a very turbid kind
of conversation, where there is no want of common good
breeding. This, most frequently, arises from there being
too great a disposition to speak, and too small a disposition
to listen. Too many are eager to get their ideas
expressed, or to attract attention; and the consequence
is, that nothing is heard but broken snatches and fragments
of discourse, in which there is neither profit nor
entertainment. No man listens to what another has to
say, and then makes a relative or additionally illustrative
remark. One may be heard for a minute, or half a
minute, but it is with manifest impatience; and the moment
he is done, or stops to draw breath, the other
plunges in with what <em>he</em> had to say, being something
quite of another strain, and referring to another subject.
He in his turn is interrupted by a third, with the enunciation
of some favorite ideas of his, equally irrelative;
and thus conversation becomes no conversation, but a
contention for permission to speak a few hurried words,
which nobody cares to hear, or takes the trouble to
answer. Meanwhile, the modest and weak sit silent and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">{218}</a></span>
ungratified. The want of regulation is here very manifest.
It would be better to have a president who should
allow everybody a minute in succession to speak without
interruption, than thus to have freedom, and so monstrously
to abuse it. The only remedy, as far as meetings
by invitation are concerned, is to take care that no
more eager talkers are introduced than are absolutely
necessary to prevent conversation from flagging. One
to every six or eight persons is the utmost that can be
safely allowed.</p>

<p>“The danger of introducing politics, or any other notoriously
controversial subject, in mixed companies, is so
generally acknowledged, that conversation is in little
danger&mdash;at least in polite circles&mdash;from that source.
But wranglements, nevertheless, are apt to arise. Very
frequently the company falls together by the ears in
consequence of the starting of some topic in which facts
are concerned&mdash;with which facts no one chances to be
acquainted.</p>

<p>“Conversation is often much spoilt through slight inattentions
or misapprehensions on the part of a particular
member of the company. In the midst of some interesting
narrative or discussion, he suddenly puts all to
a stop, in order that some little perplexity may be explained,
which he could never have fallen into, if he had
been paying a fair degree of attention to what was going
on. Or he has some precious prejudice jarred upon by
something said, or supposed to be said, and all is at a
stand, till he has been, through the united exertions of a
vexed company, re-assured and put at his ease. Often
the most frivolous interruption from such causes will disconcert<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">{219}</a></span>
the whole strain of the conversation, and spoil
the enjoyment of a score of people.</p>

<p>“The eager speakers, already alluded to, are a different
class from those who may be called the determinedly
loquacious. A thoroughly loquacious man has no idea
of anything but a constant outpouring of talk from his
own mouth. If he stops for a moment, he thinks he
is not doing his duty to the company; and, anxious that
there should be no cause of complaint against him on
that score, he rather repeats a sentence, or gives the
same idea in different words, or hums and haws a little,
than allow the least pause to take place. The notion
that any other body can be desirous of saying a word,
never enters his head. He would as soon suppose that
a beggar was anxious to bestow alms upon him, as that
any one could wish to speak, as long as he himself was
willing to save them the trouble. Any attempt to interrupt
him is quite hopeless. The only effect of the sound
of another voice is to raise the sound of his own, so as
to drown it. Even to give a slight twist or turn to the
flow of his ideas, is scarce possible. When a decided
attempt is made to get in a few words, he only says, with
an air of offended feeling, set off with a tart courtesy,
‘Allow me, sir,’ or, ‘When you are done, sir;’ as if he
were a man whom nobody would allow, on any occasion,
to say all he had to say. If, however, he has been permitted
to talk on and on incessantly a whole evening,
to the complete closing of the mouths of the rest, he
goes away with all the benevolent glow of feeling which
arises from a gratified faculty, remarking to the gentleman
who takes his arm, ‘What a great deal of pleasant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">{220}</a></span>
conversation we have had!’ and chatters forth all the
way home such sentences as, ‘Excellent fellow, our host,’
‘charming wife,’ ‘delightful family altogether,’ ‘always
make everybody so happy.’</p>

<p>“Another class of spoilers of conversation are the loud
talkers or blusterers. They are not numerous, but one
is enough to destroy the comfort of thirty people for a
whole evening. The least opposition to any of his ideas
makes the blusterer rise in his might, and bellow, and
roar, and bellow again, till the whole company is in
something like the condition of Æneas’s fleet after Eolus
has done his worst. The society enjoyed by this kind
of man is a series of <em>first invitations</em>.</p>

<p>“While blusterers and determinedly loquacious persons
are best left to themselves, and while endless worryings
on unknown things are to be avoided, it is necessary
both that one or two good conversationists should be at
every party, and that the strain of the conversation
should not be allowed to become too tame. In all invited
parties, eight of every ten persons are disposed to
hold their peace, or to confine themselves to monosyllabic
answers to commonplace inquiries. It is necessary,
therefore, that there should be <em>some</em> who can speak, and
that fluently, if not entertainingly&mdash;only not too many.
But all engrossing of conversation, and all turbulence,
and over-eagerness, and egotism, are to be condemned.
A very soft and quiet manner has, at last, been settled
upon, in the more elevated circles, as the best for conversation.
Perhaps they carry it to a pitch of affectation;
but, yet, when we observe the injurious consequences
of the opposite style in less polite companies, it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">{221}</a></span>
is not easy to avoid the conclusion that the great folks
are, upon the whole, right. In the courtly scene, no
one has his ears offended with loud and discordant tones,
no one is condemned to absolute silence. All display in
conversation will not depend on the accidental and external
quality of strength of voice, as it must do where
a loud and contentious style of talking is allowed; the
soft-toned and the weak-lunged will have as good a
chance as their more robust neighbors; and it will be
possible for all both to speak and to hear. There may
be another advantage in its being likely to produce less
mental excitement than the more turbulent kind of society.
But <em>regulation</em> is, we are persuaded, the thing
most of all wanted in the conversational meetings of the
middle classes. People interrupt each other too much&mdash;are
too apt to run away into their own favorite themes,
without caring for the topic of their neighbors&mdash;too frequently
wrangle about trifles. The regularity of a debating
society would be intolerable; but some certain
degree of method might certainly be introduced with
great advantage. There should, at least, be a vigorous
enforcement of the rule against more than one speaking
at a time, even though none of those waiting for their
turn should listen to a word he says. Without this there
may be much talk, and even some merriment, but no conversation.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">{222}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.<br />
<span class="sub">PARTIES.</span></h2>

<p>Now, there are many different kinds of parties.
There are the evening party, the matinée, the reading,
dancing, and singing parties, the picnic, the boating,
and the riding parties; and the duties for each one are
distinct, yet, in many points, similar. Our present subject
is:&mdash;</p>

<h3>THE EVENING PARTY.</h3>

<p>These are of two kinds, large and small. For the
first, you will receive a formal card, containing the compliments
of your hostess for a certain evening, and this
calls for full dress, a dress coat, and white or very light
gloves. To the small party you will probably be invited
verbally, or by a more familiar style of note than the
compliment card. Here you may wear gloves if you
will, but you need not do so unless perfectly agreeable to
yourself.</p>

<p>If you are to act as escort to a lady, you must call at
the hour she chooses to name, and the most elegant way
is to take a carriage for her. If you wish to present a
bouquet, you may do so with perfect propriety, even if
you have but a slight acquaintance with her.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">{223}</a></span>
When you reach the house of your hostess for the
evening, escort your companion to the dressing-room,
and leave her at the door. After you have deposited
your own hat and great-coat in the gentlemen’s dressing-room,
return to the ladies’ door and wait for your companion.
Offer her your right arm, and lead her to the
drawing-room, and, at once, to the hostess, then take her
to a seat, and remain with her until she has other companions,
before you seek any of your own friends in the
room.</p>

<p>There is much more real enjoyment and sociability in
a <em>well-arranged</em> party, than in a ball, though many of
the points of etiquette to be observed in the latter are
equally applicable to the former. There is more time
allowed for conversation, and, as there are not so many
people collected, there is also more opportunity for
forming acquaintances. At a <i>soirée</i>, <i>par excellence</i>,
music, dancing, and conversation are all admissible, and
if the hostess has tact and discretion this variety is very
pleasing. As there are many times when there is no
pianist or music engaged for dancing, you will do well,
if you are a performer on the piano-forte, to learn some
quadrilles, and round dances, that you may volunteer
your services as <i>orchestra</i>. Do not, in this case, wait to
be solicited to play, but offer your services to the hostess,
or, if there is a lady at the piano, ask permission to relieve
her. To turn the leaves for another, and sometimes
call figures, are also good natured and well-bred
actions.</p>

<p>There is one piece of rudeness very common at parties,
against which I would caution you. Young people very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">{224}</a></span>
often form a group, and indulge in the most boisterous
merriment and loud laughter, for jests known only to
themselves. Do not join such a group. A well-bred
man, while he is cheerful and gay, will avoid any appearance
of romping in society.</p>

<p>If dancing is to be the amusement for the evening,
your first dance should be with the lady whom you accompanied,
then, invite your hostess, and, if there are
several ladies in the family you must invite each of them
once, in the course of the evening. If you go alone,
invite the ladies of the house before dancing with any
of your other lady friends.</p>

<p>Never attempt any dance with which you are not perfectly
familiar. Nothing is more awkward and annoying
than to have one dancer, by his ignorance of the
figures, confuse all the others in the set, and certainly
no man wants to show off his ignorance of the steps of
a round dance before a room full of company.</p>

<p>Do not devote yourself too much to one lady. A
party is meant to promote sociability, and a man who
persists in a tête-à-tête for the evening, destroys this intention.
Besides you prevent others from enjoying the
pleasure of intercourse with the lady you thus monopolize.</p>

<p>Avoid any affectation of great intimacy with any lady
present; and even if you really enjoy such intimacy, or
she is a relative, do not appear to have confidential conversation,
or, in any other way, affect airs of secrecy or
great familiarity.</p>

<p>Dance easily and gracefully, keeping perfect time,
but not taking too great pains with your steps. If your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">{225}</a></span>
whole attention is given to your feet or carriage, you will
probably be mistaken for a dancing master.</p>

<p>When you conduct your partner to a seat after a
dance, you may sit or stand beside her to converse, unless
you see that another gentleman is waiting to invite
her to dance.</p>

<p>Do not take the vacant seat next a lady unless you
are acquainted with her.</p>

<p>After dancing, do not offer your hand, but your arm,
to conduct your partner to her seat.</p>

<p>If music is called for and you are able to play or sing,
do so when first invited, or, if you refuse then, do not
afterwards comply. If you refuse, and then alter your
mind you will either be considered a vain coxcomb, who
likes to be urged; or some will conclude that you refused
at first from mere caprice, for, if you had a good reason
for declining, why change your mind?</p>

<p>Never offer to turn the leaves of music for any one
playing, unless you can read the notes, for you run the
risk of confusing them, by turning too soon or too late.</p>

<p>If you sing a good second, never sing with a lady unless
she herself invites you. Her friends may wish to
hear you sing together, when she herself may not wish
to sing with one to whose voice and time she is unaccustomed.</p>

<p>Do not start a conversation whilst any one is either
playing or singing, and if another person commences one,
speak in a tone that will not prevent others from listening
to the music.</p>

<p>If you play yourself, do not wait for silence in the
room before you begin. If you play well, those really<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">{226}</a></span>
fond of music will cease to converse, and listen to you;
and those who do not care for it, will not stop talking
if you wait upon the piano stool until day dawn.</p>

<p>Relatives should avoid each other at a party, as they
can enjoy one another’s society at home, and it is the
constantly changing intercourse, and complete sociability
that make a party pleasant.</p>

<p>Private concerts and amateur theatricals are very often
the occasions for evening parties, and make a very pleasant
variety on the usual dancing and small talk. An
English writer, speaking of them, says:</p>

<p>“Private concerts and amateur theatricals ought to be
very good to be successful. Professionals alone should
be engaged for the former, none but real amateurs for the
latter. Both ought to be, but rarely are, followed by a
supper, since they are generally very fatiguing, if not
positively trying. In any case, refreshments and ices
should be handed between the songs and the acts. Private
concerts are often given in the ‘morning,’ that is,
from two to six <span class="ucsmcap">P. M.</span>; in the evening their hours are
from eight to eleven. The rooms should be arranged in
the same manner as for a reception, the guests should be
seated, and as music is the avowed object, a general
silence preserved while it lasts. Between the songs the
conversation ebbs back again, and the party takes the
general form of a reception. For private theatricals,
however, where there is no special theatre, and where the
curtain is hung, as is most common, between the folding-doors,
the audience-room must be filled with chairs and
benches in rows, and, if possible, the back rows raised
higher than the others. These are often removed when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">{227}</a></span>
the performance is over, and the guests then converse,
or, sometimes, even dance. During the acting it is rude
to talk, except in a very low tone, and, be it good or
bad, you would never think of hissing.”</p>

<p>If you are alone, and obliged to retire early from an
evening party, do not take leave of your hostess, but slip
away unperceived.</p>

<p>If you have escorted a lady, her time must be yours,
and she will tell you when she is ready to go. See
whether the carriage has arrived before she goes to the
dressing-room, and return to the parlor to tell her. If
the weather was pleasant when you left home, and you
walked, ascertain whether it is still pleasant; if not, procure
a carriage for your companion. When it is at the
door, join her in the drawing-room, and offer your arm
to lead her to the hostess for leave-taking, making your
own parting bow at the same time, then take your companion
to the door of the ladies’ dressing-room, get your
own hat and wait in the entry until she comes out.</p>

<p>When you reach your companion’s house, do not accept
her invitation to enter, but ask permission to call in
the morning, or the following evening, and make that
call.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">{228}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.<br />
<span class="sub">COURTESY AT HOME.</span></h2>

<p>There are many men in this world, who would be
horror struck if accused of the least breach of etiquette
towards their friends and acquaintances abroad, and yet,
who will at home utterly disregard the simplest rules of
politeness, if such rules interfere in the least with their
own selfish gratification. They disregard the pure and
holy ties which should make courtesy at home a pleasure
as well as a duty. They forget that home has a sweet
poetry of its own, created out of the simplest materials,
yet, haunting, more or less, the secret recesses of every
human heart; it is divided into a thousand separate
poems, which should be full of individual interest, little
quiet touches of feeling and golden recollections, which,
in the heart of a truly noble man, are interwoven with
his very being. Common things are, to him, hallowed
and made beautiful by the spell of memory and association,
owing all their glory to the halo of his own pure,
fond affection. The eye of a stranger rests coldly on
such revelations; their simple pathos is hard to be understood;
and they smile oftentimes at the quaintness
of those passages which make others weep. With the
beautiful instinct of true affection, home love retains<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">{229}</a></span>
only the good. There were clouds then, even as now,
darkening the horizon of daily life, and breaking tears
or wild storms above our heads; but he remembers nothing
save the sunshine, and fancies somehow that it has
never shone so bright since! How little it took to make
him happy in those days, aye, and sad also; but it was
a pleasant sadness, for he wept only over a flower or a
book. But let us turn to our first poem; and in using
this term we allude, of course, to the poetry of idea,
rather than that of the measure; beauty of which is so
often lost to us from a vague feeling that it cannot exist
without rhythm. But pause and listen, first of all,
gentle reader, to the living testimony of a poet heart,
brimful, and gushing over with home love:&mdash;“There are
not, in the unseen world, voices more gentle and more
true, that may be more implicitly relied on, or that are
so certain to give none but the tenderest counsel, as the
voices in which the spirits of the fireside and the hearth
address themselves to human kind!”</p>

<p>The man who shows his contempt for these holy ties
and associations by pulling off his mask of courtesy as soon
as his foot passes his own threshold, is not really a gentleman,
but a selfish tyrant, whose true qualities are not
courtesy and politeness, but a hypocritical affectation of
them, assumed to obtain a footing in society. Avoid
such men. Even though you are one of the favored
ones abroad who receive their gentle courtesy, you may
rest assured that the heartless egotism which makes them
rude and selfish at home, will make their friendship but
a name, if circumstances ever put it to the test. Above
all, avoid their example.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">{230}</a></span>
In what does the home circle consist? First, there
are the parents who have watched over your infancy
and childhood, and whom you are commanded by the
Highest Power to “honor.” Then the brothers and sisters,
the wife who has left her own home and all its
tender ties for your sake, and the children who look to
you for example, guidance, and instruction.</p>

<p>Who else on the broad earth can lay the same claim
to your gentleness and courtesy that they can? If you
are rude at home, then is your politeness abroad a mere
cloak to conceal a bad, selfish heart.</p>

<p>The parents who have anxiously watched over your
education, have the first right to the fruits of it, and all
the <em>gentleman</em> should be exerted to repay them for the
care they have taken of you since your birth. All the
rules of politeness, of generosity, of good nature, patience,
and respectful affection should be exerted for
your parents. You owe to them a pure, filial love, void
of personal interest, which should prompt you to study
all their tastes, their likes, and aversions, in order to indulge
the one and avoid the other; you owe to them polite
attention, deference to all their wishes, and compliance
with their requests. Every joy will be doubled to
them, if you show a frank pleasure in its course, and no
comfort can soothe the grief of a parent so much as the
sympathizing love of a dutiful son. If they are old, dependent
upon you for support, then can you still better
prove to them that the tender care they lavished upon
you, when you depended upon their love for everything,
was not lost, but was good seed sown upon fruitful
ground. Nay, if with the infirmities of age come the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">{231}</a></span>
crosses of bad temper, or exacting selfishness, your duty
still lies as plainly before you. It is but the promptings
of natural affection that will lead you to love and cherish
an indulgent parent; but it is a pure, high virtue which
makes a son love and cherish with an equal affection a
selfish, negligent mother, or a tyrannical, harsh father.
No failure in their duty can excuse you if you fail in
yours; and, even if they are wicked, you are not to be
their judge, but, while you detest and avoid their sin,
you must still love the sinner. Nothing but the grossest
and most revolting brutality could make a man reproach
his parents with the feebleness of age or illness, or the
incapacity to exert their talents for support.</p>

<p>An eminent writer, in speaking of a man’s duties,
says: “Do all in your power to render your parents
comfortable and happy; if they are aged and infirm, be
with them as often as you can, carry them tokens of
your love, and show them that you feel a tender interest
in their happiness. Be all to your parents, which you
would wish your children to be to you.”</p>

<p>Next, in the home circle, come your brothers and sisters,
and here you will find the little courtesies, which,
as a gentleman, should be habitual to you, will ensure
the love a man should most highly prize, the love of his
brother and sister. Next to his filial love, this is the
first tie of his life, and should be valued as it deserves.</p>

<p>If you are the eldest of the family, you may, by your
example, influence your brothers to good or evil, and win
or alienate the affections of your little sisters. There is
scarcely a more enthusiastic affection in the world than
that a sister feels for an elder brother. Even though he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">{232}</a></span>
may not repay the devotion as it deserves, she will generally
cherish it, and invest him with the most heroic
qualities, while her tender little heart, though it may
quiver with the pain of a harsh word or rude action, will
still try to find an excuse for “brother’s” want of affection.
If you show an interest in the pursuits of the
little circle at whose head your age entitles you to stand,
you will soon find they all look up to you, seek your advice,
crave your sympathy, and follow your example.
The eldest son holds a most responsible position. Should
death or infirmity deprive him of a father’s counsel, he
should be prepared to stand forth as the head of the
family, and take his father’s place towards his mother
and the younger children.</p>

<p>Every man should feel, that in the character and dignity
of his sisters his own honor is involved. An insult
or affront offered to them, becomes one to him, and he
is the person they will look to for protection, and to
prevent its repetition. By his own manner to them he
can ensure to them the respect or contempt of other
men whom they meet when in his society. How can he
expect that his friends will treat his sisters with gentleness,
respect, and courtesy, if they see him constantly
rude, disrespectful, and contemptuous towards them?
But, if his own manner is that of affectionate respect,
he need not fear for them rudeness from others, while
they are under his protection. An American writer
says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Nothing in a family strikes the eye of a visitor with
more delight than to see brothers treat their sisters with
kindness, civility, attention, and love. On the contrary,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">{233}</a></span>
nothing is more offensive or speaks worse for the honor
of a family, than that coarse, rude, unkind manner which
brothers sometimes exhibit.”</p>

<p>The same author says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Beware how you speak of your sisters. Even gold
is tarnished by much handling. If you speak in their
praise&mdash;of their beauty, learning, manners, wit, or attentions&mdash;you
will subject them to taunt and ridicule;
if you say anything against them, you will bring reproach
upon yourself and them too. If you have occasion
to speak of them, do it with modesty and few words.
Let others do all the praising and yourself enjoy it. If
you are separated from them, maintain with them a correspondence.
This will do yourself good as well as them.
Do not neglect this duty, nor grow remiss in it. Give
your friendly advice and seek theirs in return. As they
mingle intimately with their sex, they can enlighten your
mind respecting many particulars relating to female
character, important for you to know; and, on the other
hand, you have the same opportunity to do them a
similar service. However long or widely separated from
them, keep up your fraternal affection and intercourse.
It is ominous of evil when a young man forgets his
sister.</p>

<p>“If you are living at home with them, you may do
them a thousand little services, which will cost you nothing
but pleasure, and which will greatly add to theirs.
If they wish to go out in the evening&mdash;to a lecture, concert,
a visit, or any other object,&mdash;always be happy, if
possible, to wait upon them. Consider their situation,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">{234}</a></span>
and think how you would wish them to treat you if the
case were reversed.”</p>

<p>A young man once said to an elderly lady, who expressed
her regret at his having taken some trouble and
denied himself a pleasure to gratify her:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Madam, I am far away from my mother and sisters
now, but when I was at home, my greatest pleasure was
to protect them and gratify all their wishes; let me now
place you in their stead, and you will not have cause
again to feel regret, for you can think ‘he <em>must love</em> to
deny himself for one who represents his mother.’”</p>

<p>The old lady afterwards spoke of him as a perfect
gentleman, and was contradicted by a younger person
who quoted some fault in etiquette committed by the
young man in company. “Ah, that may be,” said her
friend; “but what I call a gentleman, is not the man
who performs to the minutest point all the little ceremonies
of society, but the one whose <em>heart</em> prompts him to
be polite at home.”</p>

<p>If you have left the first home circle, that comprising
your parents, brothers, and sisters, to take up the duties
of a husband and father, you must carry to your new
home the same politeness I have advised you to exert in
the home of your childhood.</p>

<p>Your wife claims your courtesy more now, even, than
when you were courting her. She has given up, for
your sake, all the freedom and pleasures of her maidenhood,
and to you she looks for a love that will replace
them all. Can you disappoint that trusting affection?
Before your marriage you thought no stretch of courtesy
too great, if the result was to afford her pleasure; why,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">{235}</a></span>
then, not strive to <em>keep</em> her love, by the same gentle
courtesy you exerted to <em>win</em> it?</p>

<p>“A delicate attention to the minute wants and wishes
of your wife, will tend, more than anything else, to the
promotion of your domestic happiness. It requires no
sacrifices, occupies but a small degree of attention, yet
is the fertile source of bliss; since it convinces the object
of your regard, that, with the duties of a husband,
you have united the more punctilious behaviour of a
lover. These trivial tokens of regard certainly make
much way in the affections of a woman of sense and discernment,
who looks not to the value of the gifts she receives,
but perceives in their frequency a continued evidence
of the existence and ardor of that love on which
the superstructure of her happiness has been erected.
The strongest attachment will decline, if you receive it
with diminished warmth.”</p>

<p>Mrs. Thrale gives the following advice, which is worth
the consideration of every young man:</p>

<p>“After marriage,” she says, “when your violence of
passion subsides, and a more cool and tranquil affection
takes its place, be not hasty to censure as indifferent, or
to lament yourself as unhappy; you have lost that only
which it is impossible to retain; and it were graceless
amidst the pleasures of a prosperous summer, to regret
the blossoms of a transient spring. Neither unwarily
condemn your bride’s insipidity, till you have recollected
that no object, however sublime, no sound, however
charming, can continue to transport us with delight,
when they no longer strike us with novelty. The skill
to renovate the powers of pleasing is said, indeed, to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">{236}</a></span>
possessed by some women in an eminent degree, but the
artifices of maturity are seldom seen to adorn the innocence
of youth. You have made your choice and ought
to approve it.</p>

<p>“To be happy, we must always have something in
view. Turn, therefore, your attention to her mind,
which will daily grow brighter by polishing. Study some
easy science together, and acquire a similarity of tastes,
while you enjoy a community of pleasures. You will,
by this means, have many pursuits in common, and be
freed from the necessity of separating to find amusement;
endeavor to cement the present union on every
side; let your wife never be kept ignorant of your income,
your expenses, your friendships, or your aversions;
let her know your very faults, but make them
amiable by your virtues; consider all concealment as a
breach of fidelity; let her never have anything to find
out in your character, and remember that from the moment
one of the partners turns spy upon the other, they
have commenced a state of hostility.</p>

<p>“Seek not for happiness in singularity, and dread a
refinement of wisdom as a deviation into folly. Listen
not to those sages who advise you always to scorn the
counsel of a woman, and if you comply with her requests
pronounce you to be wife-ridden. Think not any privation,
except of positive evil, an excellence; and do not
congratulate yourself that your wife is not a learned
lady, or is wholly ignorant how to make a pudding.
Cooking and learning are both good in their places, and
may both be used with advantage. With regard to expense,
I can only observe, that the money laid out in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">{237}</a></span>
purchase of luxuries is seldom or ever profitably employed.
We live in an age when splendid furniture and
glittering equipage are grown too common to catch the
notice of the meanest spectator; and for the greater
ones, they can only regard our wasteful folly with silent
contempt or open indignation.</p>

<p>“This may, perhaps, be a displeasing reflection; but
the following consideration ought to make amends. The
age we live in pays, I think, a peculiar attention to the
higher distinctions of wit, knowledge, and virtue, to
which we may more safely, more cheaply, and more
honorably aspire.</p>

<p>“The person of your lady will not grow more pleasing
to you; but, pray, let her not suspect that it grows less
so. There is no reproof, however pointed, no punishment,
however severe, that a woman of spirit will not
prefer to neglect; and if she can endure it without complaint,
it only proves that she means to make herself
amends by the attention of others for the slights of her
husband. For this, and for every other reason, it behoves
a married man not to let his politeness fail, though
his ardour may abate; but to retain, at least, that general
civility towards his own lady which he is willing to pay
to every other, and not show a wife of eighteen or twenty
years old, that every man in company can treat her with
more complaisance than he who so often vowed to her
eternal fondness.</p>

<p>“It is not my opinion that a young woman should be
indulged in every wild wish of her gay heart, or giddy
head; but contradiction may be softened by domestic
kindness, and quiet pleasures substituted in the place of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">{238}</a></span>
noisy ones. Public amusements, indeed, are not so expensive
as is sometimes imagined; but they tend to alienate
the minds of married people from each other. A well-chosen
society of friends and acquaintances, more eminent
for virtue and good sense than for gaiety and
splendor, where the conversation of the day may afford
comment for the evening, seems the most rational pleasure
that can be afforded. That your own superiority
should always be seen, but never felt, seems an excellent
general rule.</p>

<p>“If your wife is disposed towards jealousy of you,
let me beseech you be always explicit with her, never mysterious.
Be above delighting in her pain in all things.”</p>

<p>After your duty to your wife comes that towards the
children whom God lends to you, to fit them to return
pure and virtuous to him. This is your task, responsibility,
and trust, to be undertaken prayerfully, earnestly,
and humbly, as the highest and most sacred duty this
life ever can afford you.</p>

<p>The relationship between parent and child, is one that
appears to have been ordained by Providence, to bring
the better feelings of mankind and many domestic virtues
into active exercise. The implicit confidence with which
children, when properly treated, look up to their elders
for guidance is not less beautiful than endearing; and no
parents can set about the work of guiding aright, in
real earnest, without deriving as much good as they impart.
The feeling with which this labor of love would
be carried forward is, as the poet writes of mercy, twice
blessed:&mdash;</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“It blesses him that gives and him that takes.”</span>
</div></div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">{239}</a></span>
And yet, in daily life and experience, how seldom do we
find these views realized! Children, in too many instances,
are looked on as anything but a blessing; they
are treated as incumbrances, or worse; and the neglect
in which they are brought up, renders it almost impossible
for them, when they grow older, to know anything
properly of moral or social duties. This result we know,
in numerous cases, is not willful, does not arise from ill
intentions on the part of parents, but from want of fixed
plans and principles. There are hundreds of families in
this country whose daily life is nothing better than a
daily scramble, where time and place, from getting up
in the morning to going to bed at night, are regarded as
matters of chance. In such homes as these, where the
inmates are willing to do well, but don’t know how, a
word in season is often welcome. “Great principles,”
we are told, “are at the bottom of all things; but to
apply them to daily life, many little rules, precautions,
and insights are needed.”</p>

<p>The work of training is, in some degree, lightened by
the fact, that children are very imitative; what they see
others do, they will try to do themselves, and if they see
none but good examples, good conduct on their part may
naturally be looked for. Children are keen observers,
and are very ready at drawing conclusions when they
see a want of correspondence between profession and
practice, in those who have the care of them. At the
age of seven, the child’s brain has reached its full
growth; it seldom becomes larger after that period, and
it then contains the germ of all that the man ever accomplishes.
Here is an additional reason for laying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">{240}</a></span>
down the precept:&mdash;be yourselves what you wish the
children to be. When correction is necessary, let it be
administered in such a way as to make the child refrain
from doing wrong from a desire to do right, not for the
sole reason that wrong brings punishment. All experience
teaches us that if a good thing is to be obtained,
it must be by persevering diligence; and of all good
things, the pleasure arising from a well-trained family is
one of the greatest. Parents, or educators, have no
right to use their children just as whim or prejudice may
dictate. Children are smaller links in the great social
chain, and bind together in lasting ties many portions
which otherwise would be completely disjointed; their
joyousness enlivens many a home, and their innocence
is a powerful check and antidote to much that is evil.
The implicit obedience which is required of them, will
always be given when called forth by a spirit of forbearance,
self-sacrifice, and love:&mdash;</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i5">“Ere long comes the reward,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And for the cares and toils we have endured,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Repays us joys and pleasures manifold.”<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>If you cherish and honor your own parents, then do
you give your children the most forcible teaching for
their duty, <em>example</em>. And your duty to your children
requires your example to be good in all things. How
can you expect counsel to virtue to have any effect, if
you constantly contradict it by a bad example? Do not
forget, that early impressions are deep and lasting,
and from their infancy let them see you keep an upright,
noble walk in life, then may you hope to see them follow
in your footsteps.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">{241}</a></span>
Justice, as a sentiment, is inborn, and no one distinguishes
its niceties more quickly than a child. Therefore
in your rewards and punishments examine carefully
every part of their conduct, and judge calmly, not
hastily, and be sure you are just. An unmerited reward
will make a child question your judgment as much as an
unmerited punishment.</p>

<p>Guard your temper. Never reprove a child in the
heat of passion.</p>

<p>If your sons see that you regard the rules of politeness
in your home, you will find that they treat their
mother and sisters with respect and courtesy, and observe,
even in play, the rules of etiquette your example teaches;
but if you are a domestic tyrant, all your elder and
stronger children will strive to act like “father,” by ill-treating
or neglecting the younger and weaker ones.</p>

<p>Make them, from the moment they begin to talk, use
pure and grammatical language, avoid slang phrases, and,
above all, profanity. You will find this rule, enforced
during childhood, will have more effect than a library full
of books or the most unwearied instruction can accomplish,
after bad habits in conversation have once been
formed.</p>

<p>Make them, from early childhood, observe the rules
of politeness towards each other. Let your sons treat
your daughters as, when men, you would have them treat
other females, and let your daughters, by gentleness and
love, repay these attentions. You may feel sure that
the brothers and sisters, who are polite one to another,
will not err in etiquette when abroad.</p>

<p>In the home circle may very properly be included the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">{242}</a></span>
humble portion, whose onerous duties are too often repaid
by harshness and rudeness; I mean the servants.
A true gentleman, while he never allows familiarity from
his servants, will always remember that they are human
beings, who feel kindness or rudeness as keenly as the
more favored ones up stairs. Chesterfield says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“There is a certain politeness <em>due</em> to your inferiors,
and whoever is without it, is without good nature. We
do not need to compliment our servants, nor to talk of
their doing us the honor, &amp;c., but we ought to treat them
with benevolence and mildness. We are all of the same
species, and no distinction whatever is between us, except
that which arises from fortune. For example, your
footman and cook would be your equals were they as
rich as you. Being poor they are obliged to serve you.
Therefore, you must not add to their misfortunes by insulting
or ill-treating them. If your situation is preferable
to theirs, be thankful, without either despising them
or being vain of your better fortune. You must, therefore,
treat all your inferiors with affability and good
manners, and not speak to them in a surly tone, nor
with harsh expressions, as if they were of a different
species. A good heart never reminds people of their
inferiority, but endeavors to alleviate their misfortunes,
and make them forget them.”</p>

<p>“Example,” says Mrs. Parkes, “is of the greatest importance
to our servants, particularly those who are
young, whose habits are frequently formed by the first
service they enter. With the mild and good, they become
softened and improved, but with the dissipated and
violent, are too often disorderly and vicious. It is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">{243}</a></span>
therefore, not among the least of the duties incumbent
on the head of the family, to place in their view such
examples as are worthy their imitation. But these examples,
otherwise praiseworthy, should neither be rendered
disagreeable, nor have their force diminished by
any accompaniment of ill humor. Rather by the happiness
and comfort resulting from our conduct towards
our domestics, should they be made sensible of the
beauty of virtue. What we admire, we often strive to
imitate, and thus they may be led on to imitate good
principles, and to form regular and virtuous habits.”</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">{244}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.<br />
<span class="sub">TRUE COURTESY.</span></h2>

<p>Politeness is the art of pleasing. It is to the deportment
what the finer touches of the pencil are to the
picture, or what harmony is to music. In the formation
of character, it is indispensably requisite. “We
are all,” says Locke, “a kind of chameleons, that take
a tincture from the objects which surround us.” True
courtesy, indeed, chiefly consists in accommodating ourselves
to the feelings of others, without descending from
our own dignity, or denuding ourselves of our own principles.
By constant intercourse with society, we acquire
what is called politeness almost intuitively, as the shells
of the sea are rendered smooth by the unceasing friction
of the waves; though there appears to be a natural
grace about the well-bred, which many feel it difficult to
attain.</p>

<p>Religion itself teaches us to honor all men, and to do
unto others as we would others do unto us. This includes
the whole principle of courtesy, which in this we
may remark, assimilates to the principle of justice. It
comprises, indeed, all the moral virtues in one, consisting
not merely in external show, but having its principle in
the heart. The politeness which superficial writers are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">{245}</a></span>
fond of describing, has been defined as “the appearance
of all the virtues, without possessing one of them;”
but by this is meant the mere outward parade, or that
kind of artificial adornment of demeanor, which owes its
existence to an over-refinement of civility. Anything
forced or formal is contrary to the very character of
courtesy, which does not consist in a becoming deportment
alone, but is prompted and guided by a superior
mind, impelling the really polite person to bear with the
failings of some, to overlook the weakness of others, and
to endure patiently the caprices of all. Indeed, one of
the essential characteristics of courtesy is good nature,
and an inclination always to look at the bright side of
things.</p>

<p>The principal rules of politeness are, to subdue the
temper, to submit to the weakness of our fellow men,
and to render to all their due, freely and courteously.
These, with the judgment to recommend ourselves to
those whom we meet in society, and the discrimination
to know when and to whom to yield, as well as the discretion
to treat all with the deference due to their reputation,
station, or merit, comprise, in general, the character
of a polite man, over which the admission of even
one blot or shade will throw a blemish not easily removed.</p>

<p>Sincerity is another essential characteristic of courtesy;
for, without it, the social system would have no permanent
foundation or hope of continuance. It is the want
of this which makes society, what it is said to be, artificial.</p>

<p>Good breeding, in a great measure, consists in being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">{246}</a></span>
easy, but not indifferent; good humored, but not familiar;
passive, but not unconcerned. It includes, also,
a sensibility nice, yet correct; a tact delicate, yet true.
There is a beautiful uniformity in the demeanor of a polite
man; and it is impossible not to be struck with his
affable air. There is a golden mean in the art, which it
should be every body’s object to attain, without descending
to obsequiousness on the one hand, or to familiarity
on the other. In politeness, as in everything else, there
is the medium betwixt too much and too little, betwixt
constraint and freedom; for civilities carried to extreme
are wearisome, and mere ceremony is not politeness, but
the reverse.</p>

<p>The truly pious people are the truly courteous. “Religion,”
says Leighton, “is in this mistaken sometimes,
in that we think it imprints a roughness and austerity
upon the mind and carriage. It doth, indeed, bar all
vanity and lightness, and all compliance;” but it softens
the manners, tempers the address, and refines the heart.</p>

<p>Pride is one of the greatest obstacles to true courtesy
that can be mentioned. He who assumes too much on
his own merit, shows that he does not understand the
simplest principles of politeness. The feeling of pride
is, of itself, highly culpable. No man, whether he be
a monarch on the throne, or the meanest beggar in his
realm, possesses any right to comport himself with a
haughty or discourteous air towards his fellow men.
The poet truly says:</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">“What most ennobles human nature,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Was ne’er the portion of the proud.”<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>It is easy to bestow a kind word, or assume a gracious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">{247}</a></span>
smile; these will recommend us to every one; while a
haughty demeanor, or an austere look, may forfeit forever
the favor of those whose good opinion we may be
anxious to secure. The really courteous man has a
thorough knowledge of human nature, and can make allowances
for its weaknesses. He is always consistent
with himself. The polite alone know how to make others
polite, as the good alone know how to inspire others with
a relish for virtue.</p>

<p>Having mentioned pride as being opposed to true politeness,
I may class affectation with it, in that respect.
Affectation is a deviation from, at the same time that it
is an imitation of, nature. It is the result of bad taste,
and of mistaken notions of one’s own qualities. The
other vices are limited, and have each a particular object;
but affectation pervades the whole conduct, and
detracts from the merit of whatever virtues and good
dispositions a man may possess. Beauty itself loses its
attraction, when disfigured by affectation. Even to copy
from the best patterns is improper, because the imitation
can never be so good as the original. Counterfeit coin
is not so valuable as the real, and when discovered, it
cannot pass current. Affectation is a sure sign that
there is something to conceal, rather than anything to
be proud of, in the character and disposition of the persons
practicing it.</p>

<p>In religion, affectation, or, as it is fitly called, hypocrisy,
is reprehensible in the highest degree. However
grave be their deportment, of all affected persons, those
who, without any real foundation, make too great pretensions
to piety, are certainly the most culpable. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">{248}</a></span>
mask serves to conceal innumerable faults, and, as has
been well remarked, a false devotion too often usurps the
place of the true. We can less secure ourselves against
pretenders in matters of religion, than we can against
any other species of impostors; because the mind being
biased in favor of the subject, consults not reason as to
the individual. The conduct of people, which cannot
fail to be considered an evidence of their principles,
ought at all times to be conformable to their pretensions.
When God alone is all we are concerned for, we are not
solicitous about mere human approbation.</p>

<p>Hazlitt says:&mdash;“Few subjects are more nearly allied
than these two&mdash;vulgarity and affectation. It may be
said of them truly that ‘thin partitions do their bounds
divide.’ There cannot be a surer proof of a low origin
or of an innate meanness of disposition, than to be always
talking and thinking of being genteel. One must
feel a strong tendency to that which one is always trying
to avoid; whenever we pretend, on all occasions, a
mighty contempt for anything, it is a pretty clear sign
that we feel ourselves very nearly on a level with it.
Of the two classes of people, I hardly know which is to
be regarded with most distaste, the vulgar aping the
genteel, or the genteel constantly sneering at and endeavoring
to distinguish themselves from the vulgar.
These two sets of persons are always thinking of one
another; the lower of the higher with envy, the more
fortunate of their less happy neighbors with contempt.
They are habitually placed in opposition to each other;
jostle in their pretensions at every turn; and the same
objects and train of thought (only reversed by the relative<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">{249}</a></span>
situations of either party) occupy their whole time
and attention. The one are straining every nerve, and
outraging common sense, to be thought genteel; the
others have no other object or idea in their heads than
not to be thought vulgar. This is but poor spite; a
very pitiful style of ambition. To be merely not that
which one heartily despises, is a very humble claim to
superiority; to despise what one really is, is still worse.</p>

<p>“Gentility is only a more select and artificial kind of
vulgarity. It cannot exist but by a sort of borrowed
distinction. It plumes itself up and revels in the homely
pretensions of the mass of mankind. It judges of the
worth of everything by name, fashion, opinion; and
hence, from the conscious absence of real qualities or
sincere satisfaction in itself, it builds its supercilious and
fantastic conceit on the wretchedness and wants of
others. Violent antipathies are always suspicious, and
betray a secret affinity. The difference between the
‘Great Vulgar and the Small’ is mostly in outward circumstances.
The coxcomb criticises the dress of the
clown, as the pedant cavils at the bad grammar of the
illiterate. Those who have the fewest resources in
themselves, naturally seek the food of their self-love
elsewhere. The most ignorant people find most to laugh
at in strangers; scandal and satire prevail most in country-places;
and a propensity to ridicule every the slightest
or most palpable deviation from what we happen to
approve, ceases with the progress of common sense.
True worth does not exult in the faults and deficiencies
of others; as true refinement turns away from grossness
and deformity instead of being tempted to indulge in an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">{250}</a></span>
unmanly triumph over it. Raphael would not faint
away at the daubing of a sign painter, nor Homer hold
his head the higher for being in the company of the
poorest scribbler that ever attempted poetry. Real
power, real excellence, does not seek for a foil in inferiority,
nor fear contamination from coming in contact
with that which is coarse and homely. It reposes on itself,
and is equally free from spleen and affectation.
But the spirit of both these small vices is in <em>gentility</em> as
the word stands in vulgar minds: of affected delight in
its own would-be qualifications, and of ineffable disdain
poured out upon the involuntary blunders or accidental
disadvantages of those whom it chooses to treat as inferiors.</p>

<p>“The essence of vulgarity, I imagine, consists in
taking manners, actions, words, opinions on trust from
others, without examining one’s own feelings or weighing
the merits of the case. It is coarseness or shallowness
of taste arising from want of individual refinement, together
with the confidence and presumption inspired by
example and numbers. It may be defined to be a prostitution
of the mind or body to ape the more or less obvious
defects of others, because by so doing we shall secure
the suffrages of those we associate with. To affect
a gesture, an opinion, a phrase, because it is the rage
with a large number of persons, or to hold it in abhorrence
because another set of persons very little, if at all,
better informed, cry it down to distinguish themselves
from the former, is in either case equal vulgarity and
absurdity. A thing is not vulgar merely because it is
common. ’Tis common to breathe, to see, to feel, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">{251}</a></span>
live. Nothing is vulgar that is natural, spontaneous,
unavoidable. Grossness is not vulgarity, ignorance is
not vulgarity, awkwardness is not vulgarity; but all
these become vulgar when they are affected, and shown
off on the authority of others, or to fall in with <em>the
fashion</em> or the company we keep. Caliban is coarse
enough, but surely he is not vulgar. We might as well
spurn the clod under our feet, and call it vulgar.</p>

<p>“All slang phrases are vulgar; but there is nothing
vulgar in the common English idiom. Simplicity is not
vulgarity; but the looking to affectation of any sort for
distinction is.”</p>

<p>To sum up, it may be said, that if you wish to possess
the good opinion of your fellow men, the way to secure
it is, to be actually what you pretend to be, or rather to
appear always precisely what you are. Never depart
from the native dignity of your character, which you can
only maintain irreproachable by being careful not to imitate
the vices, or adopt the follies of others. The best
way in all cases you will find to be, to adhere to truth,
and to abide by the talents and appliances which have
been bestowed upon you by Providence.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">{252}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.<br />
<span class="sub">LETTER WRITING.</span></h2>

<p>There is no branch of a man’s education, no portion
of his intercourse with other men, and no quality which
will stand him in good stead more frequently than the
capability of writing a good letter upon any and every
subject. In business, in his intercourse with society, in,
I may say, almost every circumstance of his life, he will
find his pen called into requisition. Yet, although so
important, so almost indispensable an accomplishment,
it is one which is but little cultivated, and a letter, perfect
in every part, is a great rarity.</p>

<p>In the composition of a good letter there are many
points to be considered, and we take first the simplest
and lowest, namely, the spelling.</p>

<p>Many spell badly from ignorance, but more from carelessness.
The latter, writing rapidly, make, very often,
mistakes that would disgrace a schoolboy. If you are
in doubt about a word, do not from a feeling of false
shame let the spelling stand in its doubtful position
hoping that, if wrong, it will pass unnoticed, but get a
dictionary, and see what is the correct orthography.
Besides the actual misplacing of letters in a word there
is another fault of careless, rapid writing, frequently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">{253}</a></span>
seen. This is to write two words in one, running them
together. I have more than once seen <em>with him</em> written
<em>withim</em>, and <em>for her</em> stand thus, <em>forer</em>. Strange, too, as
it may seem, it is more frequently the short, common
words that are misspelled than long ones. They flow
from the pen mechanically, while over an unaccustomed
word the writer unconsciously stops to consider the orthography.
Chesterfield, in his advice to his son, says:</p>

<p>“I come now to another part of your letter, which is
the orthography, if I may call bad spelling <em>orthography</em>.
You spell induce, <em>enduce</em>; and grandeur, you spell
<em>grandure</em>; two faults of which few of my housemaids
would have been guilty. I must tell you that orthography,
in the true sense of the word, is so absolutely necessary
for a man of letters, or a gentleman, that one false
spelling may fix ridicule upon him for the rest of his
life; and I know a man of quality, who never recovered
the ridicule of having spelled <em>wholesome</em> without the <em>w</em>.</p>

<p>“Reading with care will secure everybody from false
spelling; for books are always well spelled, according to
the orthography of the times. Some words are indeed
doubtful, being spelled differently by different authors
of equal authority; but those are few; and in those
cases every man has his option, because he may plead
his authority either way; but where there is but one
right way, as in the two words above mentioned, it is unpardonable
and ridiculous for a gentleman to miss it;
even a woman of tolerable education would despise and
laugh at a lover, who sent her an ill-spelled <i>billet-doux</i>.
I fear, and suspect, that you have taken it into your
head, in most cases, that the matter is all, and the manner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">{254}</a></span>
little or nothing. If you have, undeceive yourself,
and be convinced that, in everything, the manner is full
as important as the matter. If you speak the sense of
an angel in bad words, and with a disagreeable utterance,
nobody will hear you twice, who can help it. If you
write epistles as well as Cicero, but in a very bad hand,
and very ill-spelled, whoever receives, will laugh at
them.”</p>

<p>After orthography, you should make it a point to
write a good hand; clear, legible, and at the same time
easy, graceful, and rapid. This is not so difficult as
some persons imagine, but, like other accomplishments,
it requires practice to make it perfect. You must write
every word so clearly that it <em>cannot</em> be mistaken by the
reader, and it is quite an important requisite to leave
sufficient space between the words to render each one
separate and distinct. If your writing is crowded, it
will be difficult to read, even though each letter is perfectly
well formed. An English author, in a letter of
advice, says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“I have often told you that every man who has the
use of his eyes and his hand can write whatever hand he
pleases. I do not desire that you should write the stiff,
labored characters of a writing master; a man of business
must write quick and well, and that depends simply
upon use. I would, therefore, advise you to get some
very good writing master, and apply to it for a month
only, which will be sufficient; for, upon my word,
the writing of a genteel, plain hand of business is of
much more importance than you think. You say, it
may be, that when you write so very ill, it is because<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">{255}</a></span>
you are in a hurry; to which, I answer, Why are you
ever in a hurry? A man of sense may be in haste, but
can never be in a hurry, because he knows, that whatever
he does in a hurry, he must necessarily do very ill.
He may be in haste to dispatch an affair, but he will take
care not to let that haste hinder his doing it well. Little
minds are in a hurry, when the object proves (as it commonly
does) too big for them; they run, they puzzle, confound,
and perplex themselves; they want to do everything
at once, and never do it at all. But a man of
sense takes the time necessary for doing the thing he is
about, well; and his haste to dispatch a business, only
appears by the continuity of his application to it; he
pursues it with a cool steadiness, and finishes it before he
begins any other....</p>

<p>“The few seconds that are saved in the course of the
day by writing ill instead of well, do not amount to an
object of time by any means equivalent to the disgrace
or ridicule of a badly written scrawl.”</p>

<p>By making a good, clear hand habitual to you, the
caution given above, with regard to hurry, will be entirely
useless, for you will find that even the most rapid
penmanship will not interfere with the beauty of your
hand-writing, and the most absorbing interest in the subject
of your epistle can be indulged; whereas, if you
write well only when you are giving your entire attention
to guiding your pen, then, haste in writing or interest
in your subject will spoil the beauty of your sheet.</p>

<p>Be very careful that the wording of your letters is in
strict accordance with the rules of grammar. Nothing
stamps the difference between a well educated man and an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">{256}</a></span>
ignorant one more decidedly than the purely grammatical
language of the one compared with the labored sentences,
misplaced verbs, nouns, adjectives, and adverbs of the
other. Chesterfield caricatures this fault in the following
letter, written as a warning to his son, to guard him
against its glaring faults:</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">My Lord</span>: I <em>had</em>, last night, the honor of your Lordship’s
letter of the 24th; and will <em>set about doing</em> the
orders contained <em>therein</em>; and <em>if so be</em> that I can get
that affair done by the next post, I will not fail <em>for to</em>
give your Lordship an account of it, by <em>next post</em>. I
have told the French Minister, <em>as how that if</em> that affair
be not soon concluded, your Lordship would think it <em>all
long of him</em>; and that he must have neglected <em>for to</em>
have wrote to his court about it. I must beg leave to
put your Lordship in mind, <em>as how</em>, that I am now full
three quarters in arrear; and if <em>so be</em> that I do not very
soon receive at least one half year, I shall <em>cut a very bad
figure</em>; <em>for this here</em> place is very dear. I shall be
<em>vastly beholden</em> to your Lordship for <em>that there</em> mark of
your favor; and so I <em>rest</em> or <em>remain</em>, Your, &amp;c.”</p>

<p>This is, I admit, a broad burlesque of a letter written
by a man holding any important government office, but in
the more private correspondence of a man’s life letters
quite as absurd and ungrammatical are written every
day.</p>

<p>Punctuation is another very important point in a
letter, because it not only is a mark of elegance and education
to properly punctuate a letter, but the omission
of this point will inevitably confuse your correspondent,
for if you write to your friend:</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">{257}</a></span>
“I met last evening Mr James the artist his son a
lawyer Mr Gay a friend of my mother’s Mr Clarke and
Mr Paul:”</p>

<p>he will not know whether Mr. Gay is a lawyer or your
mother’s friend, or whether it is Mr. James or his son
who is an artist; whereas, by the proper placing of a
few punctuation marks you make the sentence clear and
intelligible, thus:</p>

<p>“I met, last evening, Mr. James, the artist; his son,
a lawyer; Mr. Gay, a friend of my mother’s; Mr.
Clarke and Mr. Paul.”</p>

<p>Without proper regard being paid to punctuation, the
very essence of good composition is lost; it is of the utmost
importance, as clearness, strength, and accuracy
depend upon it, in as great a measure as the power of an
army depends upon the skill displayed in marshalling
and arranging the troops. The separation of one portion
of a composition from another; the proper classification
and division of the subjects; the precise meaning
of every word and sentence; the relation each part bears
to previous or following parts; the connection of one
portion and separation of others&mdash;all depend upon punctuation.
Many persons seem to consider it sufficient to
put in a period at the end of a long sentence, leaving all
the little niceties which a comma, semicolon, or colon
would render clear, in a state of the most lamentable
obscurity. Others use all the points, but misplace them
in a most ludicrous manner. A sentence may be made
by the omission or addition of a comma to express a
meaning exactly opposite to the one it expressed before
the little mark was written or erased. The best mode<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">{258}</a></span>
of studying punctuation is to read over what you write,
aloud, and put in the points as you would dwell a longer
or shorter time on the words, were you speaking.</p>

<p>We now come to the use of capital letters, a subject
next, in importance to punctuation, and one too often
neglected, even by writers otherwise careful.</p>

<p>The first word of every piece of writing, whether it
be a book, a poem, a story, a letter, a bill, a note, or
only a line of directions, must begin with a capital
letter.</p>

<p>Quotations, even though they are not immediately
preceded by a period, must invariably begin with a
capital letter.</p>

<p>Every new sentence, following a period, exclamation
mark, or interrogation point, must begin with a capital
letter.</p>

<p>Every proper name, whether it be of a person, a place,
or an object, must begin with a capital letter. The pronoun
I and exclamation O must be always written in
capital letters.</p>

<p>Capitals must never, except in the case of proper
names or the two letters mentioned in the last paragraph,
be written in the middle of a sentence.</p>

<p>A capital letter must never be used in the middle of a
word, among the small letters; nor must it be used at
the end of a word.</p>

<p>Nothing adds more to the beauty of a letter, or any
written composition, than handsomely written capital
letters, used in their proper places.</p>

<p>Having specified the most important points in a correct
letter, we next come to that which, more than anything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">{259}</a></span>
else, shows the mind of the writer; that which
proves his good or bad education; that which gives him
rank as an elegant or inelegant writer&mdash;Style.</p>

<p>It is style which adorns or disfigures a subject; which
makes the humblest matter appear choice and elegant,
or which reduces the most exalted ideas to a level with
common, or vulgar ones.</p>

<p>Lord Chesterfield says, “It is of the greatest importance
to write letters well; as this is a talent which unavoidably
occurs every day of one’s life, as well in business
as in pleasure; and inaccuracies in orthography or
in style are never pardoned. Much depends upon the
manner in which they are written; which ought to be
easy and natural, not strained and florid. For instance,
when you are about to send a <i>billet-doux</i>, or love letter
to a fair friend, you must only think of what you would
say to her if you were both together, and then write it;
that renders the style easy and natural; though some
people imagine the wording of a letter to be a great undertaking,
and think they must write abundantly better
than they talk, which is not at all necessary. Style is
the dress of thoughts, and let them be ever so just, if
your style is homely, coarse, and vulgar, they will appear
to as much disadvantage and be as ill received as your
person, though ever so well proportioned, would, if
dressed in rags, dirt, and tatters. It is not every understanding
that can judge of matter; but every one can
and does judge, more or less, of style; and were I either
to speak or write to the public, I should prefer moderate
matter, adorned with all the beauties and elegancies of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">{260}</a></span>
style, to the strongest matter in the world, ill worded and
ill delivered.”</p>

<p>Write legibly, correctly, and without erasures upon a
whole sheet of paper, never upon half a sheet. Choose
paper which is thick, white, and perfectly plain. The
initials stamped at the top of a sheet are the only ornament
allowed a gentleman.</p>

<p>It is an unpardonable fault to write upon a sheet which
has anything written or drawn upon it, or is soiled; and
quite as bad to answer a note upon half the sheet it is
written upon, or write on the other side of a sheet which
has been used before.</p>

<p>Write your own ideas in your own words, neither borrowing
or copying from another. If you are detected
in a plagiarism, you will never recover your reputation
for originality, and you may find yourself in the position
of the hero of the following anecdote:</p>

<p>Mr. O., a man of but little cultivation, fell in love
with Miss N., whose fine intellect was duly improved by
a thorough course of study and reading, while her wit,
vivacity, and beauty made Mr. O. one only amongst
many suitors. Fascinated by her beauty and gracious
manner he determined to settle his fate, and ask her to
go forward in the alphabet and choose the next letter to
put to her surname. But how? Five times he tried to
speak, and five times the gay beauty so led the discourse
that he left at the end of each interview, no wiser than
when he came. At length he resolved to write. It was
the first time he had held the pen for any but a business
letter. After commencing twice with “Dear sir,” once
with, “I write to inform you that I am well and hope<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">{261}</a></span>
this letter will find you the same,” and once with, “Your
last duly received,” he threw the pen aside in disgust
and despair. A love letter was beyond his feeble capacities.
Suddenly a brilliant idea struck him. He
had lately seen, in turning the leaves of a popular novel,
a letter, perhaps a love letter. He procured the book,
found the letter. It was full of fire and passion, words
of love, protestations of never failing constancy, and
contained an offer of marriage. With a hand that trembled
with ecstasy, O. copied and signed the letter, sealed,
directed, and sent it. The next day came the answer&mdash;simply:</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p>“My Friend,</p>

<p>“Turn to the next page and you will find
the reply.</p>

<p class="ralign">“A. N.”</p>
</div>

<p>He did so, and found a polite refusal of his suit.</p>

<p>The secret of letter writing consists in writing as you
would speak. Thus, if you speak well, you will write
well; if you speak ill, you will also write ill.</p>

<p>Endeavor always to write as correctly and properly
as possible. If you have reason to doubt your own
spelling, carefully read and correct every letter before
you fold it. An ill-formed letter is, however, better let
alone. You will not improve it by trying to reform it,
and the effort will be plainly visible.</p>

<p>Let your style be simple, concise, and clear, entirely
void of pretension, without any phrases written merely
for effect, without useless flowery language, respectful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">{262}</a></span>
towards superiors, women, and older persons, and it will
be well.</p>

<p>Abbreviations are only permitted in business letters,
and in friendly correspondence must never be used.</p>

<p>Figures are never to be used excepting when putting
a date or a sum of money. In a business letter the
money is generally specified both in figures and words,
thus; $500 Five hundred dollars.</p>

<p>You may put the name, date, and address of a letter
either at the top of the page or at the end. I give a
specimen of each style to show my meaning.</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="ralign"><span class="smcap">Philadelphia</span>, <i>June</i> 25<i>th</i>, 1855.</p>

<p class="smcap">Mr. James Smith,</p>

<p class="pad-l2">Dear Sir,</p>

<p>The goods ordered in your letter of the 19th
inst. were sent this morning by Adam’s Express. We
shall be always happy to hear from you, and will
promptly fill any further orders.</p>

<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r8">Yours, truly,</span><br />
<span class="smcap">Jones, Brown, &amp; Co.</span></p>
</div>

<p class="center">or,</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p>Dear Sir,</p>

<p>Your favor of the 5th inst. received to day.
Will execute your commissions with pleasure.</p>

<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r3">Yours, truly,</span><br />
J. Jones.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Mr. James Smith.</span><br />
<span class="pad-l3"><span class="smcap">Phila.</span>, <i>June</i> 25<i>th</i>, 1854.</span></p>
</div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">{263}</a></span>
If you send your own address put it under your own
signature, thus:</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r6 smcap">J. Jones,</span><br />
<span class="pad-r2">17 W&mdash;&mdash; st.,</span><br />
<span class="smcap">New York</span>.</p>
</div>

<p>The etiquette of letter-writing, should, as much as
possible, be influenced by principles of truth. The
superscription and the subscription should alike be
in accordance with the tone of the communication, and
the domestic or social relation of those between whom it
passes. Communications upon professional or business
matters, where no acquaintance exists to modify the circumstances,
should be written thus:&mdash;“Mr. Gillot will
feel obliged by Mr. Slack’s sending by the bearer,” &amp;c.
It is an absurdity for a man who writes a challenge, or
an offensive letter, to another, to subscribe himself,
“Your obedient Servant.” I dislike this form of subscription,
also, when employed by persons of equal rank.
It is perfectly becoming when addressed by a servant to
an employer. But in other cases, “Yours truly,”
“Yours very truly,” “Your Friend,” “Your sincere
Friend,” “Your Well-wisher,” “Your grateful Friend,”
“Your affectionate Friend,” &amp;c., &amp;c., appears to be
much more truthful, and to be more in keeping with the
legitimate expression of good feeling. It is impossible
to lay down a set of rules that shall govern all cases.
But as a principle, it may be urged, that no person
should address another as, “Dear Sir,” or, “Dear
Madam,” without feelings and relations that justify the
use of the adjective. These compliments are mockeries.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">{264}</a></span>
No one who entertains a desire to write another as
“dear,” need feel afraid of giving offence by familiarity;
for all mankind prize the esteem even of their humblest
fellows too much to be annoyed by it. And in proportion
as the integrity of the forms of correspondence increase,
so will these expressions of good feeling be more
appreciated.</p>

<p>The next point to be considered is the <em>subject</em> of your
letter, and without a good subject the epistle will be apt
to be dull. I do not mean by this that it is necessary
to have any extraordinary event to relate, or startling
news to communicate; but in order to write a <em>good</em> letter,
it is necessary to have a <em>good</em> subject, that you may not
rival the Frenchman who wrote to his wife&mdash;“I write to
you because I have nothing to do: I stop because I have
nothing to say.” Letters written without aim or object,
simply for the sake of writing, are apt to be stupid, trivial,
or foolish.</p>

<p>You may write to a friend to congratulate him upon
some happy event to himself, or to condole with him in
some misfortune, or to ask his congratulations or condolence
for yourself. You may write to enquire for his
health, or to extend an invitation, a letter of thanks,
felicitations, upon business, or a thousand other subjects,
which it is useless for me to enumerate.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Business.</span> The chief object in a letter
of business is to communicate or enquire about some
one fact, and the epistle should be confined entirely to
that fact. All compliments, jests, high-flown language
and sentiment, are entirely out of place in a business
letter, and brevity should be one of the most important<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">{265}</a></span>
aims. Do not let your desire to be brief, however, make
your meaning obscure; better to add a few words, or
even lines, to the length of your letter, than to send it
in confused, unintelligible language. Chesterfield’s advice
on business letters is excellent. He says:</p>

<p>“The first thing necessary in writing letters of business
is, extreme clearness and perspicuity; every paragraph
should be so clear and unambiguous that the
dullest fellow in the world may not be able to mistake it,
nor obliged to read it twice in order to understand it.
This necessary clearness implies a correctness, without
excluding an elegance of style. Tropes, figures, antithesis,
epigrams, &amp;c., would be as misplaced and as impertinent
in letters of business as they are sometimes
(if judiciously used) proper and pleasing in familiar letters,
upon common and trite subjects. In business, an
elegant simplicity, the result of care, not of labor, is required.
Business must be well, not affectedly dressed;
but by no means negligently. Let your first attention
be to clearness, and read every paragraph after you have
written it, in the critical view of discovering whether it
is possible that any one man can mistake the true sense
of it; and correct it accordingly.</p>

<p>“Our pronouns and relatives often create obscurity and
ambiguity; be, therefore, exceedingly attentive to them,
and take care to mark out with precision their particular
relations. For example, Mr. Johnson acquainted me,
that he had seen Mr. Smith, who had promised him to
speak to Mr. Clarke, to return him (Mr. Johnson) those
papers, which he (Mr. Smith) had left some time ago with
him (Mr. Clarke); it is better to repeat a name, though<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">{266}</a></span>
unnecessarily, ten times, than to have the person mistaken
once.</p>

<p>“<em>Who</em>, you know, is singly relative to persons, and
cannot be applied to things; <em>which</em> and <em>that</em> are chiefly
relative to things, but not absolutely exclusive of persons;
for one may say the man, <em>that</em> robbed or killed
such-a-one; but it is better to say, the man <em>who</em> robbed
or killed. One never says, the man or woman <em>which</em>.
<em>Which</em> and <em>that</em>, though chiefly relative to things, cannot
be always used indifferently as to things. For instance,
the letter <em>which</em> I received from you, <em>which</em> you referred
to in your last, <em>which</em> came by Lord Albemarle’s messenger,
<em>which</em> I showed to such-a-one; I would change it
thus&mdash;The letter that I received from you, <em>which</em> you
referred to in your last, <em>that</em> came by Lord Albemarle’s
messenger, and <em>which</em> I showed to such-a-one.</p>

<p>“Business does not exclude (as possibly you wish it
did) the usual terms of politeness and good breeding;
but, on the contrary, strictly requires them; such as, <em>I
have the honor to acquaint you</em>; <em>Permit me to assure you</em>;
or, <em>If I may be allowed to give my opinion, &amp;c.</em></p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Letters of Business</span> will not only admit of, but be
the better for <em>certain graces</em>&mdash;but then, they must be scattered
with a skillful and sparing hand; they must fit
their place exactly. They must adorn without encumbering,
and modestly shine without glaring. But as this
is the utmost degree of perfection in letters of business,
I would not advise you to attempt those embellishments,
till you have just laid your foundation well.</p>

<p>“Carefully avoid all Greek or Latin quotations; and
bring no precedents from the <em>virtuous Spartans</em>, <em>the polite<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">{267}</a></span>
Athenians</em>, <em>and the brave Romans</em>. Leave all that
to futile pedants. No flourishes, no declamations. But
(I repeat it again) there is an elegant simplicity and dignity
of style absolutely necessary for <em>good</em> letters of business;
attend to that carefully. Let your periods be
harmonious, without seeming to be labored; and let
them not be too long, for that always occasions a degree
of obscurity. I should not mention correct orthography,
but that to fail in that particular will bring ridicule upon
you; for no man is allowed to spell ill. The hand-writing,
too, should be good; and I cannot conceive why
it is ever otherwise, since every man may, certainly, write
whatever hand he pleases. Neatness in folding up,
sealing, and directing your packets is, by no means, to
be neglected. There is something in the exterior, even
of a packet or letter, that may please or displease; and,
consequently, worth some attention.”</p>

<p>If you are writing a letter, either upon your own business
or upon that of the person you are addressing,
not in answer to him, but opening the subject between
you, follow the rule of clearness and of business brevity.
Come to the point at once, in order that the person addressed
may easily comprehend you. Put nobody to
the labor of <em>guessing</em> what you desire, and be careful
that half-instructions do not lead your correspondent
astray. If you have so clear an idea of your operation
in your mind, or if it is so simple a one that it needs no
words, except specific directions, or a plain request, you
need not waste time, but, with the proper forms of
courtesy, instruct him of your wishes. In whatever you
write, remember that time is valuable; and that embarrassing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">{268}</a></span>
or indefinite letters are a great nuisance to a business
man. I need hardly remark, that punctuality in
answering correspondents is one of the cardinal business
virtues. Where it is possible, answer letters by return
of post, as you will thus save your own time, and pay
your correspondent a flattering compliment. And in
opening a correspondence or writing upon your own
business, let your communication be made at the earliest
proper date in order that your correspondent, as well as
yourself, may have the benefit of thought and deliberation.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Inquiry</span> should be written in a happy
medium, between tedious length and the brevity which
would betoken indifference. As the subject is generally
limited to questions upon one subject, they will not admit
of much verbiage, and if your inquiry relates simply
to a matter of business, it is better to confine your words
strictly to that business; if, however, you are writing to
make inquiry as to the health of a friend, or any other
matter in which feeling or affection dictates the epistle,
the cold, formal style of a business letter would become
heartless, and, in many cases, positively insulting. You
must here add some words of compliment, express your
friendly interest in the subject, and your hope that a favorable
answer may be returned, and if the occasion is
a painful one, a few lines of regret or condolence may
be added.</p>

<p>If you are requesting a favor of your correspondent,
you should apologize for the trouble you are giving him,
and mention the necessity which prompts you to write.</p>

<p>If you are making inquiries of a friend, your letter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">{269}</a></span>
will then admit of some words of compliment, and may
be written in an easy, familiar style.</p>

<p>If writing to a stranger, your request for information
becomes a personal favor, and you should write in a
manner to show him that you feel this. Speak of the
obligation he will confer, mention the necessity which
compels you to trouble him, and follow his answer by a
note of thanks.</p>

<p>Always, when sending a letter of inquiry, enclose a
stamp for the answer. If you trouble your correspondent
to take his time to write you information, valuable
only to yourself, you have no right to tax him also
for the price of postage.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Answers to letters of Inquiry</span> should be written
as soon as possible after such letters are received. If
the inquiry is of a personal nature, concerning your
health, family affairs, or the denial or corroboration of
some report concerning yourself, you should thank your
correspondent for the interest he expresses, and such a
letter should be answered immediately. If the letter
you receive contains questions which you cannot answer
instantly, as, for instance, if you are obliged to see
a third party, or yourself make inquiry upon the
subject proposed, it is best to write a few lines acknowledging
the receipt of your friend’s letter, expressing
your pleasure at being able to serve him, and
stating why you cannot immediately give him the desired
information, with the promise to write again as
soon as such information is yours to send.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters requesting Favors</span> are trying to write,
and must be dictated by the circumstances which make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">{270}</a></span>
them necessary. Be careful not to be servile in such
letters. Take a respectful, but, at the same time, manly
tone; and, while you acknowledge the obligation a favorable
answer will confer, do not adopt the cringing
language of a beggar.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters conferring Favors</span> should never be written
in a style to make the recipient feel a weight of obligation;
on the contrary, the style should be such as
will endeavor to convince your correspondent that in
his acceptance of your favor <em>he</em> confers an obligation
upon <em>you</em>.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters refusing Favors</span> call for your most courteous
language, for they must give some pain, and this
may be very much softened by the manner in which you
write. Express your regret at being unable to grant your
friend’s request, a hope that at some future time it may be
in your power to answer another such letter more favorably,
and give a good reason for your refusal.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters acknowledging Favors</span>, or letters of thanks,
should be written in a cordial, frank, and grateful style.
While you earnestly thank your correspondent for his
kindness, you must never hint at any payment of the
obligation. If you have the means of obliging him near
you at that instant, make your offer of the favor the
subject of another letter, lest he attribute your haste to
a desire to rid yourself of an obligation. To hint at a
future payment is still more indelicate. When you can
show your gratitude by a suitable return, then let your
actions, not your words, speak for the accuracy of your
memory in retaining the recollection of favors conferred.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Anonymous letters.</span> The man who would write<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">{271}</a></span>
an anonymous letter, either to insult the person addressed,
or annoy a third person, is a scoundrel, “whom
’twere gross flattery to name a coward.” None but a
man of the lowest principles, and meanest character,
would commit an act to gratify malice or hatred without
danger to himself. A gentleman will treat such a communication
with the contemptuous silence which it deserves.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Intelligence.</span> The first thing to be regarded
in a letter of intelligence is <em>truth</em>. They are
written on every variety of subjects, under circumstances
of the saddest and the most joyful nature. They are
written often under the pressure of the most crushing
grief, at other times when the hand trembles with ecstacy,
and very frequently when a weight of other cares
and engagements makes the time of the writer invaluable.
Yet, whether the subject communicated concerns yourself
or another, remember that every written word is a
record for your veracity or falsehood. If exaggeration,
or, still worse, malice, guide your pen, in imparting
painful subjects, or if the desire to avoid causing grief
makes you violate truth to soften trying news, you are
signing your name to a written falsehood, and the letter
may, at some future time, rise to confront you and prove
that your intelligence cannot be trusted. Whatever the
character of the news you communicate, let taste and
discretion guide you in the manner of imparting it. If
it is of so sorrowful a character that you know it must
cause pain, you may endeavor to open the subject
gradually, and a few lines of sympathy and comfort, if
unheeded at the time, may be appreciated when the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">{272}</a></span>
mourner re-reads your letter in calmer moments. Joyful
news, though it does not need the same caution, also admits
of expressions of sympathy.</p>

<p>Never write the gossip around you, unless you are
<em>obliged</em> to communicate some event, and then write only
what you know to be true, or, if you speak of doubtful
matters, state them to be such. Avoid mere scandal
and hearsay, and, above all, avoid letting your own
malice or bitterness of feeling color all your statements
in their blackest dye. Be, under such circumstances,
truthful, just, and charitable.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Recommendation</span> should be written only
when they are positively necessary, and great caution
should be used in giving them. They make you, in a
measure, responsible for the conduct of another, and if
you give them frequently, on slight grounds, you will
certainly have cause to repent your carelessness. They
are letters of business, and should be carefully composed;
truthful, while they are courteous, and just, while they
are kind. If you sacrifice candor to a mistaken kindness,
you not only make yourself a party to any mischief
that may result, but you are committing a dishonest act
towards the person to whom the letter will be delivered.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Introduction</span> should be short, as they
are generally delivered in person, and ought not to occupy
much time in reading, as no one likes to have to
wait while a long letter of introduction is read. While
you speak of the bearer in the warm language of friendship,
do not write praises in such a letter; they are
about as much in place as they would be if you spoke
them at a personal introduction. Leave letters of introduction<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">{273}</a></span>
unsealed, for it is a gross breach of politeness
to prevent the bearer from reading what you have written,
by fastening the envelope. The most common
form is:&mdash;</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p>Dear Sir,</p>

<p>It gives me much pleasure to introduce to you,
the bearer of this letter, as my friend Mr. J&mdash;&mdash;, who is
to remain a few days in your city on his way to New
Orleans. I trust that the acquaintance of two friends,
for whom I have so long entertained so warm an esteem,
will prove as pleasant as my intercourse with each has
always been. Any attention which it may be in your
power to pay to Mr. J&mdash;&mdash;, whilst he is in your city, will
be highly appreciated and gratefully acknowledged by</p>

<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r3">Your sincere friend</span><br />
<span class="smcap">James C. Ray.</span></p>

<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L. G. Edmonds.</span><br />
<span class="pad-l3"><i>June</i> 23<i>d</i>, 18&mdash;.</span></p>
</div>

<p>If your letter is to introduce any gentleman in his
business or professional capacity, mention what that business
is; and if your own acquaintance with the bearer
is slight, you may also use the name of the persons from
whom he brought letters to yourself. Here, you may,
with perfect propriety, say a few words in praise of the
bearer’s skill in his professional labors. If he is an
artist, you need not hesitate to give a favorable opinion
of whatever of his pictures you have seen, or, if a musician,
express the delight his skill has afforded you.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">A letter requesting an Autograph</span> should always
enclose a postage stamp for the reply. In such a letter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">{274}</a></span>
some words of compliment, expressive of the value of
the name for which you ask, is in good taste. You may
refer to the deeds or celebrity which have made the name
so desirable, and also express your sense of the greatness
of the favor, and the obligation the granting of it
will confer.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Autograph Letters</span> should be short; containing
merely a few lines, thanking the person addressed for
the compliment paid in requesting the signature, and expressive
of the pleasure it gives you to comply with the
request. If you wish to refuse (though none but a churl
would do so), do not fall into the error of an eccentric
American whose high position in the army tempted a
collector of autographs to request his signature. The
general wrote in reply:&mdash;</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p>“Sir,</p>

<p>“I’ll be hanged if I send my autograph to anybody.</p>

<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r4">“Yours,</span><br />
“&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;.”</p>
</div>

<p>and signed his name in full in the strong, bold letters
which always characterized his hand writing.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Invitations to Ladies</span> should be written in the third
person, unless you are very intimate with them, or can
claim relationship. All letters addressed to a lady
should be written in a respectful style, and when they
are short and to a comparative stranger, the third person
is the most elegant one to use. Remember, in directing
letters to young ladies, the eldest one in a family is addressed
by the surname alone, while the others have also
the proper name; thus, if you wrote to the daughters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">{275}</a></span>
of Mr. Smith, the eldest one is Miss Smith, the others,
Miss Annie Smith and Miss Jane Smith.</p>

<p>Invitations should be sent by your own servant, or
clerk. Nothing is more vulgar than sending invitations
through the despatch, and you run the risk of their
being delayed. The first time that you invite a lady to
accompany you to ride, walk, or visit any place of
public amusement, you should also invite her mother,
sister, or any other lady in the same family, unless you
have a mother or sister with whom the lady invited is
acquainted, when you should say in your note that your
mother or sister will accompany you.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Compliment</span> being confined to one subject
should be short and simple. If they are of thanks
for inquiry made, they should merely echo the letter
they answer, with the acknowledgement of your correspondent’s
courtesy.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Congratulation.</span> Letters of congratulation
are the most agreeable of all letters to write; your
subject is before you, and you have the pleasure of sympathizing
in the happiness of a friend. They should be
written in a frank, genial style, with warm expressions
of pleasure at your friend’s joy, and admit of any happy
quotations or jest.</p>

<p>When congratulating your friend on an occasion of
happiness to himself, be very careful that your letter has
no word of envy at his good fortune, no fears for its
short duration, no prophecy of a change for the worse;
let all be bright, cheerful, and hopeful. There are few
men whose life calls for letters of congratulation upon
many occasions, let them have bright, unclouded ones<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">{276}</a></span>
when they can claim them. If you have other friends
whose sorrow makes a contrast with the joy of the
person to whom you are writing, nay, even if you
yourself are in affliction, do not mention it in such a
letter.</p>

<p>At the same time avoid the satire of exaggeration in
your expressions of congratulation, and be very careful
how you underline a word. If you write a hope that
your friend may be <em>perfectly happy</em>, he will not think
that the emphasis proves the strength of your wish, but
that you are fearful that it will not be fulfilled.</p>

<p>If at the same time that you are writing a letter of
congratulation, you have sorrowful news to communicate,
do not put your tidings of grief into your congratulatory
letter; let that contain only cheerful, pleasant words;
even if your painful news must be sent the same day,
send it in a separate epistle.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Condolence</span> are trying both to the writer
and to the reader. If your sympathy is sincere, and
you feel the grief of your friend as if it were your own,
you will find it difficult to express in written words the
sorrow that you are anxious to comfort.</p>

<p>Even the warmest, most sincere expressions, sound
cold and commonplace to the mourner, and one grasp of
the hand, one glance of the eye, will do more to express
sympathy than whole sheets of written words. It is
best not to try to say <em>all</em> that you feel. You will fail in
the attempt and may weary your friend. Let your
letter, then, be short, (not heartlessly so) but let its
words, though few, be warm and sincere. Any light,
cheerful jesting will be insulting in a letter of condolence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">{277}</a></span>
If you wish to comfort by bringing forward
blessings or hopes for the future, do not do it with gay,
or jesting expressions, but in a gentle, kind manner,
drawing your words of comfort, not from trivial, passing
events, but from the highest and purest sources.</p>

<p>If the subject for condolence be loss of fortune or
any similar event, your letter will admit of the cheering
words of every-day life, and kindly hopes that the
wheel of fortune may take a more favorable turn; but,
if death causes your friend’s affliction, there is but little
to be said in the first hours of grief. Your letter of
sympathy and comfort may be read after the first crushing
grief is over, and appreciated then, but words of
comfort are but little heeded when the first agony of a
life-long separation is felt in all the force of its first
hours.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters sent with presents</span> should be short, mere
cards of compliment, and written in the third person.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters acknowledging Presents</span> should also be
quite short, written in the third person, and merely
containing a few lines of thanks, with a word or two
of admiration for the beauty, value, or usefulness of the
gift.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Advice</span> are generally very unpalatable
for the reader, and had better not be written unless solicited,
and not then unless your counsel will really
benefit your correspondent. When written, let them be
courteous, but, at the same time, perfectly frank. If
you can avert an evil by writing a letter of advice, even
when unsolicited, it is a friendly office to write, but it is
usually a thankless one.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">{278}</a></span>
To write after an act has been performed, and state
what your advice would have been, had your opinion
been asked, is extremely foolish, and if you disapprove
of the course that has been taken, your best plan is,
certainly, to say nothing about it.</p>

<p>In writing your letter of advice, give your judgement
as an opinion, not a law, and say candidly that you will
not feel hurt if contrary advice offered by any other,
more competent to judge in the case, is taken. While
your candor may force you to give the most unpalatable
counsel, let your courtesy so express it, that it cannot
give offence.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Letters of Excuse</span> are sometimes necessary, and
they should be written promptly, as a late apology for
an offence is worse than no apology at all. They should
be written in a frank, manly style, containing an explanation
of the offence, and the facts which led to it,
the assurance of the absence of malice or desire to
offend, sorrow for the circumstances, and a hope that
your apology will be accepted. Never wait until circumstances
force an apology from you before writing a
letter of excuse. A frank, prompt acknowledgement
of an offence, and a candidly expressed desire to atone
for it, or for indulgence towards it, cannot fail to conciliate
any reasonable person.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Cards of Compliment</span> must always be written in the
third person.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Answers.</span> The first requisite in answering a letter
upon any subject, is promptness. If you can answer
by return of mail, do so; if not, write as soon as possible.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">{279}</a></span>
If you receive a letter making inquiries about
facts which you will require time to ascertain, then write
a few lines acknowledging the receipt of the letter of
inquiry and promising to send the information as soon
as possible.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">{280}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.<br />
<span class="sub">WEDDING ETIQUETTE.</span></h2>

<p>From an English work, “The Habits of Good Society,”
I quote some directions for the guidance of the
happy man who proposes to enter the state of matrimony.
I have altered a few words to suit the difference
of country, but when weddings are performed in church,
the rules given here are excellent. They will apply
equally well to the evening ceremony.</p>

<p>“At a time when our feelings are or ought to be most
susceptible, when the happiness or misery of a condition
in which there is no medium begins, we are surrounded
with forms and etiquettes which rise before the unwary
like spectres, and which even the most rigid ceremonialists
regard with a sort of dread.</p>

<p>“Were it not, however, for these forms, and for this
necessity of being <i>en règle</i>, there might, on the solemnization
of marriage, be confusion, forgetfulness, and,
even&mdash;speak it not aloud&mdash;irritation among the parties
most intimately concerned. Excitement might ruin all.
Without a definite programme, the old maids of the
family would be thrusting in advice. The aged chronicler
of past events, or grandmother by the fireside, would
have it all her way; the venerable bachelor in tights,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">{281}</a></span>
with his blue coat and metal buttons, might throw every
thing into confusion by his suggestions. It is well that
we are independent of all these interfering advisers; that
there is no necessity to appeal to them. Precedent has
arranged it all; we have only to put in or understand
what that stern authority has laid down; how it has been
varied by modern changes; and we must just shape our
course boldly. ‘Boldly?’ But there is much to be
done before we come to that. First, there is the offer to
be made. Well may a man who contemplates such a
step say to himself, with Dryden:</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">‘These are the realms of everlasting fate;’<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>for, in truth, on marriage one’s well-being not only here
but even hereafter mainly depends. But it is not on this
bearing of the subject that we wish to enter, contenting
ourselves with a quotation from the <cite>Spectator</cite>:</p>

<p>“‘It requires more virtues to make a good husband or
wife, than what go to the finishing any the most shining
character whatsoever.’</p>

<p>“In France, an engagement is an affair of negotiation
and business; and the system, in this respect, greatly
resembles the practice in England, on similar occasions,
a hundred and fifty or two hundred years ago, or even
later. France is the most unchanging country in the
world in her habits and domestic institutions, and foremost
among these is her ‘<i>Marriage de convenance</i>,’ or
‘<i>Marriage de raison</i>.’</p>

<p>“It is thus brought about. So soon as a young girl
quits the school or convent where she has been educated,
her friends cast about for a suitable <i>parti</i>. Most parents<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">{282}</a></span>
in France take care, so soon as a daughter is born, to
put aside a sum of money for her ‘<i>dot</i>,’ as they well
know that, whatever may be her attractions, <em>that</em> is indispensable
in order to be married. They are ever on
the look out for a youth with, at least, an equal fortune,
or more; or, if they are rich, for title, which is deemed
tantamount to fortune; even the power of writing those
two little letters <i>De</i> before your name has some value in
the marriage contract. Having satisfied themselves,
they thus address the young lady:&mdash;‘It is now time for
you to be married; I know of an eligible match; you
can see the gentleman, either at such a ball, or [if he is
serious] at church. I do not ask you to take him if his
appearance is positively disagreeable to you; if so, we
will look out for some one else.’</p>

<p>“As a matter of custom, the young lady answers that
the will of her parents is hers; she consents to take a
survey of him to whom her destiny is to be entrusted;
and let us presume that he is accepted, though it does
not follow, and sometimes it takes several months to look
out, as it does for other matters, a house, or a place, or
a pair of horses. However, she consents; a formal introduction
takes place; the <i>promis</i> calls in full dress to
see his future wife; they are only just to speak to each
other, and those few unmeaning words are spoken in the
presence of the bride-elect’s mother; for the French
think it most indiscreet to allow the affections of a girl
to be interested before marriage, lest during the arrangements
for the contract all should be broken off. If she
has no dislike, it is enough; never for an instant are the
engaged couple left alone, and in very few cases do they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">{283}</a></span>
go up to the altar with more than a few weeks’ acquaintance,
and usually with less. The whole matter is then
arranged by notaries, who squabble over the marriage-contract,
and get all they can for their clients.</p>

<p>“The contract is usually signed in France on the day
before the marriage, when all is considered safe; the religious
portion of their bond takes place in the church,
and then the two young creatures are left together to
understand each other if they can, and to love each other
if they will; if not they must content themselves with
what is termed, <i>un ménage de Paris</i>.</p>

<p>“In England, formerly, much the same system prevailed.
A boy of fourteen, before going on his travels,
was contracted to a girl of eleven, selected as his future
wife by parents or guardians; he came back after the
<i>grande tour</i> to fulfil the engagement. But by law it was
imperative that forty days should at least pass between
the contract and the marriage; during which dreary interval
the couple, leashed together like two young greyhounds,
would have time to think of the future. In
France, the perilous period of reflection is not allowed.
‘I really am so glad we are to take a journey,’ said a
young French lady to her friends; ‘I shall thus get to
know something about my husband; he is quite a stranger
to me.’ Some striking instances of the <i>Marriage de
convenance</i> being infringed on, have lately occurred in
France. The late Monsieur de Tocqueville married for
love, after a five years’ engagement. Guizot, probably
influenced by his acquaintance with England, gave his
daughters liberty to choose for themselves, and they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">{284}</a></span>
married for <em>love</em><a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a>&mdash;‘a very indelicate proceeding,’ remarked
a French comtesse of the old <i>régime</i>, when
speaking of this arrangement.</p>

<p>“Nothing can be more opposed to all this than the
American system. They are so tenacious of the freedom
of choice, that even persuasion is thought criminal.</p>

<p>“In France negotiations are often commenced on the
lady’s side; in America, never. Even too encouraging
a manner, even the ordinary attentions of civility, are,
occasionally, a matter of reproach. We are jealous of
the delicacy of that sacred bond; which we presume to
hope is to spring out of mutual affection. A gentleman
who, from whatever motives, has made up his mind to
marry, may set about it in two ways. He may propose
by letter or in words. The customs of society imply
the necessity of a sufficient knowledge of the lady to be
addressed. This, even in this country, is a difficult
point to be attained; and, after all, cannot be calculated
by time, since, in large cities, you may know people a
year, and yet be comparative strangers; and, meeting
them in the country, may become intimate in a week.</p>

<p>“Having made up his mind, the gentleman offers&mdash;wisely,
if he can, in speech. Letters are seldom expressive
of what really passes in the mind of man; or, if
expressive, seem foolish, since deep feelings are liable to
exaggeration. Every written word may be the theme
of cavil. Study, care, which avail in every other species
of composition, are death to the lover’s effusion. A few
sentences, spoken in earnest, and broken by emotion,
are more eloquent than pages of sentiment, both to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">{285}</a></span>
parent and daughter. Let him, however, speak and be
accepted. He is, in that case, instantly taken into the
intimacy of his adopted relatives. Such is the notion
of American honor, that the engaged couple are henceforth
allowed to be frequently alone together, in walking
and at home. If there be no known obstacle to the engagement,
the gentleman and lady are mutually introduced
to the respective relatives of each. It is for the
gentleman’s family to call first; for him to make the first
present; and this should be done as soon as possible
after the offer has been accepted. It is a sort of seal
put upon the affair. The absence of presents is thought
to imply want of earnestness in the matter. This present
generally consists of some personal ornament, say,
a ring, and should be handsome, but not so handsome as
that made for the wedding-day. During the period that
elapses before the marriage, the betrothed man should
conduct himself with peculiar deference to the lady’s
family and friends, even if beneath his own station. It
is often said: ‘I marry such a lady, but I do not mean
to marry her whole family.’ This disrespectful pleasantry
has something in it so cold, so selfish, that even
if the lady’s family be disagreeable, there is a total absence
of delicate feeling to her in thus speaking of those
nearest to her. To her parents especially, the conduct
of the betrothed man should be respectful; to her sisters
kind without familiarity; to her brothers, every evidence
of good-will should be testified. In making every provision
for the future, in regard to settlements, allowance
for dress, &amp;c., the <em>extent</em> of liberality convenient should
be the spirit of all arrangements. Perfect candor as to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">{286}</a></span>
his own affairs, respectful consideration for those of the
family he is about to enter, mark a true gentleman.</p>

<p>“In France, however gay and even blameable a man
may have been before his betrothal, he conducts himself
with the utmost propriety after that event. A sense of
what is due to a lady should repress all habits unpleasant
to her; smoking, if disagreeable; frequenting places of
amusement without her; or paying attention to other
women. In this respect, indeed, the sense of honor
should lead a man to be as scrupulous when his future
wife is absent as when she is present, if not more so.</p>

<p>“In equally bad taste is exclusiveness. The devotions
of two engaged persons should be reserved for the <i>tête-à-tête</i>,
and women are generally in fault when it is otherwise.
They like to exhibit their conquest; they cannot
dispense with attentions; they forget that the demonstration
of any peculiar condition of things in society
must make some one uncomfortable; the young lady is
uncomfortable because she is not equally happy; the
young man detests what he calls nonsense; the old think
there is a time for all things. All sitting apart, therefore,
and peculiar displays, are in bad taste; I am inclined
to think that they often accompany insincerity,
and that the truest affections are those which are reserved
for the genuine and heartfelt intimacy of private interviews.
At the same time, the airs of indifference and
avoidance should be equally guarded against; since,
however strong and mutual attachment may be, such a
line of conduct is apt needlessly to mislead others, and
so produce mischief. True feeling, and a lady-like consideration
for others, a point in which the present generation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">{287}</a></span>
essentially fails, are the best guides for steering
between the extremes of demonstration on the one hand,
and of frigidity on the other.</p>

<p>“During the arrangement of pecuniary matters, a
young lady should endeavor to understand what is going
on, receiving it in a right spirit. If she has fortune, she
should, in all points left to her, be generous and confiding,
at the same time prudent. Many a man, she should
remember, may abound in excellent qualities, and yet be
improvident. He may mean to do well, yet have a passion
for building; he may be the very soul of good nature,
yet fond of the gaming-table; he may have no
wrong propensities of that sort, and yet have a confused
notion of accounts, and be one of those men who muddle
away a great deal of money, no one knows how; or he
may be a too strict economist, a man who takes too good
care of the pence, till he tires your very life out about
an extra dollar; or he may be facile or weakly good
natured, and have a friend who preys on him, and
for whom he is disposed to become security. Finally,
the beloved Charles, Henry, or Reginald may have none
of these propensities, but may chance to be an honest
merchant, or a tradesman, with all his floating capital in
business, and a consequent risk of being one day rich,
the next a pauper.</p>

<p>“Upon every account, therefore, it is desirable for a
young lady to have a settlement on her; and she should
not, from a weak spirit of romance, oppose her friends
who advise it, since it is for her husband’s advantage as
well as her own. By making a settlement there is always
a fund which cannot be touched&mdash;a something, however<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">{288}</a></span>
small, as a provision for a wife and children; and whether
she have fortune or not, this ought to be made. An allowance
for dress should also be arranged; and this
should be administered in such a way that a wife should
not have to ask for it at inconvenient hours, and thus irritate
her husband.</p>

<p>“Every preliminary being settled, there remains nothing
except to fix the marriage-day, a point always left
to the lady to advance; and next to settle how the ceremonial
is to be performed is the subject of consideration.</p>

<p>“It is to be lamented that, previous to so solemn a
ceremony, the thoughts of the lady concerned must necessarily
be engaged for some time upon her <i>trousseau</i>.
The <i>trousseau</i> consists, in this country, of all the habiliments
necessary for a lady’s use for the first two or three
years of her married life; like every other outfit there
are always a number of articles introduced into it that
are next to useless, and are only calculated for the vain-glory
of the ostentatious.</p>

<p>“The <i>trousseau</i> being completed, and the day fixed, it
becomes necessary to select the bridesmaids and the
bridegroom’s man, and to invite the guests.</p>

<p>“The bridesmaids are from two to eight in number.
It is ridiculous to have many, as the real intention of the
bridesmaid is, that she should act as a witness of the
marriage. It is, however, thought a compliment to include
the bride’s sisters and those of the bridegroom’s
relations and intimate friends, in case sisters do not
exist.</p>

<p>“When a bride is young the bridesmaids should be
young; but it is absurd to see a ‘single woman of a certain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">{289}</a></span>
age,’ or a widow, surrounded by blooming girls,
making her look plain and foolish. For them the discreet
woman of thirty-five is more suitable as a bridesmaid.
Custom decides that the bridesmaids should be
spinsters, but there is no legal objection to a married
woman being a bridesmaid, should it be necessary, as it
might be abroad, or at sea, or where ladies are few in
number. Great care should be taken not to give offence
in the choice of bridesmaids by a preference, which is
always in bad taste on momentous occasions.</p>

<p>“The guests at the wedding should be selected with
similar attention to what is right and kind, with consideration
to those who have a claim on us, not only to what
we ourselves prefer.</p>

<p>“For a great wedding breakfast, it is customary to
send out printed cards from the parents or guardians
from whose house the young lady is to be married.</p>

<p>“Early in the day, before eleven, the bride should be
dressed, taking breakfast in her own room. In America
they load a bride with lace flounces on a rich silk, and
even sometimes with ornaments. In France it is always
remembered, with better taste, that when a young lady
goes up to the altar, she is ‘<i>encore jeune fille</i>;’ her
dress, therefore, is exquisitely simple; a dress of tulle
over white silk, a long, wide veil of white tulle, going
down to the very feet, a wreath of maiden-blush-roses
interspersed with orange flowers. This is the usual costume
of a French bride of rank, or in the middle classes
equally.</p>

<p>“The gentleman’s dress should differ little from his
full morning costume. The days are gone by when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">{290}</a></span>
gentlemen were married&mdash;as a recently deceased friend
of mine was&mdash;in white satin breeches and waistcoat. In
these days men show less joy in their attire at the fond
consummation of their hopes, and more in their faces. A
dark-blue frock-coat&mdash;black being superstitiously considered
ominous&mdash;a white waistcoat, and a pair of light
trousers, suffice for the ‘happy man.’ The neck-tie also
should be light and simple. Polished boots are not
amiss, though plain ones are better. The gloves must
be as white as the linen. Both are typical&mdash;for in these
days types are as important as under the Hebrew law-givers&mdash;of
the purity of mind and heart which are supposed
to exist in their wearer. Eheu! after all, he cannot
be too well dressed, for the more gay he is the
greater the compliment to his bride. Flowers in the
button-hole and a smile on the face show the bridegroom
to be really a ‘happy man.’</p>

<p>“As soon as the carriages are at the door, those
bridesmaids, who happen to be in the house, and the
other members of the family set off first. The bride
goes last, with her father and mother, or with her mother
alone, and the brother or relative who is to represent her
father in case of death or absence. The bridegroom,
his friend, or bridegroom’s man, and the bridesmaids
ought to be waiting in the church. The father of the
bride gives her his arm, and leads her to the altar.
Here her bridesmaids stand near her, as arranged by the
clerk, and the bridegroom takes his appointed place.</p>

<p>“It is a good thing for the bridegroom’s man to distribute
the different fees to the clergyman or clergymen,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">{291}</a></span>
the clerk, and pew-opener, before the arrival of the bride,
as it prevents confusion afterwards.</p>

<p>“The bride stands to the left of the bridegroom, and
takes the glove off her right hand, whilst he takes his
glove off his right hand. The bride gives her glove to
the bridesmaid to hold, and sometimes to keep, as a good
omen.</p>

<p>“The service then begins. During the recital, it is
certainly a matter of feeling how the parties concerned
should behave; but if tears can be restrained, and a
quiet modesty in the lady displayed, and her emotions
subdued, it adds much to the gratification of others, and
saves a few pangs to the parents from whom she is to
part.</p>

<p>“It should be remembered that this is but the closing
scene of a drama of some duration&mdash;first the offer, then
the consent and engagement. In most cases the marriage
has been preceded by acts which have stamped the
whole with certainty, although we do not adopt the contract
system of our forefathers, and although no event
in this life can be certain.</p>

<p>“I have omitted the mention of the bouquet, because
it seems to me always an awkward addition to the bride,
and that it should be presented afterwards on her return
to the breakfast. Gardenias, if in season, white azalia,
or even camellias, with very little orange flowers, form
the bridal bouquet. The bridesmaids are dressed, on
this occasion, so as to complete the picture with effect.
When there are six or eight, it is usual for three of them
to dress in one color, and three in another. At some of
the most fashionable weddings in London, the bridesmaids<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">{292}</a></span>
wear veils&mdash;these are usually of net or tulle; white
tarlatan dresses, over muslin or beautifully-worked
dresses, are much worn, with colors introduced&mdash;pink or
blue, and scarves of those colors; and white bonnets, if
bonnets are worn, trimmed with flowers to correspond.
These should be simple, but the flowers as natural as
possible, and of the finest quality. The bouquets of the
bridesmaids should be of mixed flowers. These they
may have at church, but the present custom is for the
gentlemen of the house to present them on their return
home, previous to the wedding breakfast.</p>

<p>“The register is then signed. The bride quits the
church first with the bridegroom, and gets into his carriage,
and the father and mother, bridesmaids, and bridegroom’s
man, follow in order in their own.</p>

<p>“The breakfast is arranged on one or more tables,
and is generally provided by a confectioner when expense
is not an object.</p>

<p>“Presents are usual, first from the bridegroom to the
bridesmaids. These generally consist of jewelry, the
device of which should be unique or quaint, the article
more elegant than massive. The female servants of the
family, more especially servants who have lived many
years in their place, also expect presents, such as gowns
or shawls; or to a very valued personal attendant or
housekeeper, a watch. But on such points discretion
must suggest, and liberality measure out the <i>largesse</i> of
the gift.”</p>

<p>When the ceremony is performed at the house of the
bride, the bridegroom should be ready full half an hour
before the time appointed, and enter the parlor at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">{293}</a></span>
head of his army of bridesmaids and groomsmen, with
his fair bride on his arm. In America a groomsman is
allowed for each bridesmaid, whilst in England one poor
man is all that is allowed for six, sometimes eight bridesmaids.
The brothers or very intimate friends of the
bride and groom are usually selected for groomsmen.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">{294}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.<br />
<span class="sub">ETIQUETTE FOR PLACES OF AMUSEMENT.</span></h2>

<p>When you wish to invite a lady to accompany you to
the theatre, opera, a concert, or any other public place
of amusement, send the invitation the day previous to
the one selected for taking her, and write it in the third
person. If it is the first time you have invited her, include
her mother, sister, or some other lady in the invitation.</p>

<p>If she accepts your invitation, let it be your next care
to secure good seats, for it is but a poor compliment to
invite a lady to go to the opera, and put her in an uncomfortable
seat, where she can neither hear, see, nor be
seen.</p>

<p>Although, when alone, you will act a courteous part
in giving your seat to a strange lady, who is standing,
in a crowded concert room, you should not do so when
you are with a lady. By giving up your place beside
her, you may place a lady next her, whom she will find
an unpleasant companion, and you are yourself separated
from her, when the conversation between the acts makes
one of the greatest pleasures of an evening spent in this
way. In case of accident, too, he deprives her of his
protection, and gives her the appearance of having come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">{295}</a></span>
alone. Your first duty, when you are escorting a lady,
is to that lady before all others.</p>

<p>When you are with a lady at a place of amusement,
you must not leave your seat until you rise to escort her
home. If at the opera, you may invite her to promenade
between the acts, but if she declines, do you too remain
in your seat.</p>

<p>Let all your conversation be in a low tone, not whispered,
nor with any air of mystery, but in a tone that
will not disturb those seated near you.</p>

<p>Any lover-like airs or attitudes, although you may have
the right to assume them, are in excessively bad taste in
public.</p>

<p>If the evening you have appointed be a stormy one,
you must call for your companion with a carriage, and
this is the more elegant way of taking her even if the
weather does not make it absolutely necessary.</p>

<p>When you are entering a concert room, or the box of
a theatre, walk before your companion up the aisle, until
you reach the seats you have secured, then turn, offer
your hand to her, and place her in the inner seat, taking
the outside one yourself; in going out, if the aisle is too
narrow to walk two abreast, you again precede your
companion until you reach the lobby, where you turn
and offer your arm to her.</p>

<p>Loud talking, laughter, or mistimed applause, are all
in very bad taste, for if you do not wish to pay strict
attention to the performance, those around you probably
do, and you pay but a poor compliment to your companion
in thus implying her want of interest in what she
came to see.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">{296}</a></span>
Secure your programme, libretto, or concert bill, before
taking your seat, as, if you leave it, in order to obtain
them, you may find some one else occupying your
place when you return, and when the seats are not secured,
he may refuse to rise, thus giving you the alternative
of an altercation, or leaving your companion without
any protector. Or, you may find a lady in your seat,
in which case, you have no alternative, but must accept
the penalty of your carelessness, by standing all the
evening.</p>

<p>In a crowd, do not push forward, unheeding whom
you hurt or inconvenience, but try to protect your companion,
as far as possible, and be content to take your
turn.</p>

<p>If your seats are secured, call for your companion in
time to be seated some three or four minutes before the
performance commences, but if you are visiting a
hall where you cannot engage seats, it is best to go
early.</p>

<p>If you are alone and see ladies present with whom
you are acquainted, you may, with perfect propriety, go
and chat with them between the acts, but when with a
lady, never leave her to speak to another lady.</p>

<p>At an exhibition of pictures or statuary, you may
converse, but let it be in a quiet, gentlemanly tone, and
without gesture or loud laughter. If you stand long
before one picture or statue, see that you are not interfering
with others who may wish to see the same work
of art. If you are engaged in conversation, and wish
to rest, do not take a position that will prevent others<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">{297}</a></span>
from seeing any of the paintings, but sit down, or stand
near the centre of the room.</p>

<p>Never, unless urgently solicited, attach yourself to
any party at a place of amusement, even if some of
the members of it are your own relatives or intimate
friends.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">{298}</a></span></p>

<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.<br />
<span class="sub">MISCELLANEOUS.</span></h2>

<p>When you are walking with a lady who has your arm,
be careful to <em>keep step</em> with her, and do not force her to
take long, unladylike steps, or trot beside you with two
steps to one of yours, by keeping your usual manly
stride.</p>

<p>Never allow a lady, with whom you are walking, to
carry a bundle, shawl, or bag, unless both your hands
are already occupied in her service.</p>

<p>When you attend a wedding or bridal reception, it is
the bridegroom whom you are to <em>congratulate</em>, offering
to the bride your wishes for her future happiness, but
not <em>congratulation</em>. If you are acquainted with the
bridegroom, but not with the bride, speak to him first,
and he will introduce you to his bride, but in any other
case, you must speak first to the bride, then to the bridegroom,
then the bridesmaids, if you have any previous
acquaintance with them, then to the parents and family
of the bride, and after all this you are at liberty to seek
your other friends among the guests. If you are personally
a stranger to the newly married couple, but have
received a card from being a friend of one of the families<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">{299}</a></span>
or from any other reason, it is the first groomsman’s
place to introduce you, and you should give him your
card, or mention your name, before he leads you to the
bride.</p>

<p>Always remove a chair or stool that stands in the way
of a lady passing, even though she is an entire stranger
to you.</p>

<p>You may hand a chair to a strange lady, in a hotel,
or upon a boat; you may hand her water, if you see
her rise to obtain it, and at a hotel table you may pass
her the dishes near you, with perfect propriety.</p>

<p>In this country where every other man uses tobacco,
it may not be amiss to say a few words on smoking.</p>

<p>Dr. Prout says, “Tobacco is confessedly one of the
most virulent poisons in nature. Yet such is the fascinating
influence of this noxious weed, that mankind resort
to it in every form they can devise, to ensure its
stupifying and pernicious agency. Tobacco disorders
the assimilating functions in general, but particularly, as
I believe, the assimilation of the saccharine principle.
I have never, indeed, been able to trace the development
of oxalic acid to the use of tobacco; but that some analogous,
and equally poisonous principle (probably of
an acid nature), is generated in certain individuals by
its abuse, is evident from their cachectic looks, and from
the dark, and often greenish yellow tint of the blood.
The severe and peculiar dyspeptic symptoms sometimes
produced by inveterate snuff-taking are well known; and
I have more than once seen such cases terminate fatally
with malignant disease of the stomach and liver. Great
smokers, also, especially those who employ short pipes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">{300}</a></span>
and cigars, are said to be liable to cancerous affections
of the lips.”</p>

<p>Yet, in spite of such warnings met with every day,
Young America, Middle-aged America, and Old America
will continue to use the poison, and many even use it in
excess. An English writer gives some very good rules
for the times and places where smoking may be allowed,
which I quote for the use of smokers on this side of the
water.</p>

<p>He says:</p>

<p>“But what shall I say of the fragrant weed which
Raleigh taught our gallants to puff in capacious bowls;
which a royal pedant denounced in a famous ‘Counterblast;’
which his flattering laureate, Ben Jonson, ridiculed
to please his master; which our wives and sisters protest
gives rise to the dirtiest and most unsociable habit a man
can indulge in; of which some fair favorers declare that
they love the smell, and others that they will never
marry an indulger (which, by the way, they generally
end in doing); which has won a fame over more space
and among better men than Noah’s grape has ever done;
which doctors still dispute about, and boys still get sick
over; but which is the solace of the weary laborer; the
support of the ill-fed; the refresher of over-wrought
brains; the soother of angry fancies; the boast of the
exquisite; the excuse of the idle; the companion of the
philosopher; and the tenth muse of the poet. I will go
neither into the medical nor the moral question about the
dreamy, calming cloud. I will content myself so far
with saying what may be said for everything that can
bless and curse mankind, that, in moderation, it is at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">{301}</a></span>
least harmless; but what is moderate and what is not,
must be determined in each individual case, according
to the habits and constitution of the subject. If it cures
asthma, it may destroy digestion; if it soothes the nerves,
it may, in excess, produce a chronic irritability.</p>

<p>“But I will regard it in a social point of view; and,
first, as a narcotic, notice its effects on the individual
character. I believe, then, that in moderation it diminishes
the violence of the passions, and, particularly, that
of the temper. Interested in the subject, I have taken
care to seek instances of members of the same family
having the same violent tempers by inheritance, of whom
the one has been calmed down by smoking, and the
other gone on in his passionate course. I believe that it
induces a habit of calm reflectiveness, which causes us to
take less prejudiced, perhaps less zealous views of life,
and to be, therefore, less irritable in our converse with
our fellow creatures. I am inclined to think that the
clergy, the squirearchy, and the peasantry are the most
prejudiced and most violent classes in this country; there
may be other reasons for this, but it is noteworthy that
these are the classes which smoke least. On the other
hand, I confess that it induces a certain lassitude, and a
lounging, easy mode of life, which are fatal both to the
precision of manners and the vivacity of conversation.
The mind of a smoker is contemplative rather than
active; and if the weed cures our irritability, it kills our
wit. I believe that it is a fallacy to suppose that it encourages
drinking. There is more drinking and less
smoking in England than in any other country of the
civilized world. There was more drinking among the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">{302}</a></span>
gentry of last century, who never smoked at all. Smoke
and wine do not go well together. Coffee or beer are
its best accompaniments, and the one cannot intoxicate,
the other must be largely imbibed to do so. I have observed
among young bachelors that very little wine is
drunk in their chambers, and that beer is gradually
taking its place. The cigar, too, is an excuse for rising
from the dinner-table where there are no ladies to go to.</p>

<p>“In another point of view, I am inclined to think
that smoking has conduced to make the society of men,
when alone, less riotous, less quarrelsome, and even less
vicious than it was. Where young men now blow a
common cloud, they were formerly driven to a fearful
consumption of wine, and this in their heads, they were
ready and roused to any iniquity. But the pipe is the
bachelor’s wife. With it he can endure solitude longer,
and is not forced into low society in order to shun it.
With it, too, the idle can pass many an hour, which
otherwise he would have given, not to work, but to extravagant
devilries. With it he is no longer restless
and impatient for excitement of any kind. We never
hear now of young blades issuing in bands from their
wine to beat the watch or disturb the slumbering citizens,
as we did thirty or forty years ago, when smoking was
still a rarity; they are all puffing harmlessly in their
chambers now. But, on the other hand, I foresee with
dread a too tender allegiance to the pipe, to the destruction
of good society, and the abandonment of the ladies.
No wonder they hate it, dear creatures; the pipe is the
worst rival a woman can have, and it is one whose eyes
she cannot scratch out; who improves with age, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">{303}</a></span>
she herself declines; who has an art which no woman
possesses, that of never wearying her devotee; who is
silent, yet a companion; costs little, yet gives much
pleasure; who, lastly, never upbraids, and always yields
the same joy. Ah! this is a powerful rival to wife or
maid, and no wonder that at last the woman succumbs,
consents, and, rather than lose her lord or master, even
supplies the hated herb with her own fair hands.</p>

<p>“There are rules to limit this indulgence. One must
never smoke, nor even ask to smoke, in the company of
the fair. If they know that in a few minutes you will
be running off to your cigar, the fair will do well&mdash;say
it is in a garden, or so&mdash;to allow you to bring it out and
smoke it there. One must never smoke, again, in the
streets; that is, in daylight. The deadly crime may be
committed, like burglary, after dark, but not before.
One must never smoke in a room inhabited at times by
the ladies; thus, a well-bred man who has a wife or sisters,
will not offer to smoke in the dining-room after
dinner. One must never smoke in a public place, where
ladies are or might be, for instance, a flower-show or
promenade. One may smoke in a railway-carriage in
spite of by-laws, if one has first obtained the consent of
every one present; but if there be a lady there, though
she give her consent, smoke not. In nine cases out of
ten, she will give it from good nature. One must never
smoke in a close carriage; one may ask and obtain leave
to smoke when returning from a pic-nic or expedition in
an open carriage. One must never smoke in a theatre,
on a race-course, nor in church. This last is not, perhaps,
a needless caution. In the Belgian churches you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">{304}</a></span>
see a placard announcing, ‘Ici on ne mâche pas du
tabac.’ One must never smoke when anybody shows an
objection to it. One must never smoke a pipe in the
streets; one must never smoke at all in the coffee-room
of a hotel. One must never smoke, without consent, in
the presence of a clergyman, and one must never offer a
cigar to any ecclesiastic.</p>

<p>“But if you smoke, or if you are in the company of
smokers, and are to wear your clothes in the presence of
ladies afterwards, you must change them to smoke in.
A host who asks you to smoke, will generally offer you
an old coat for the purpose. You must also, after
smoking, rinse the mouth well out, and, if possible, brush
the teeth. You should never smoke in another person’s
house without leave, and you should not ask leave to
do so if there are ladies in the house. When you are
going to smoke a cigar you should offer one at the same
time to anybody present, if not a clergyman or a very
old man. You should always smoke a cigar given to
you, whether good or bad, and never make any remarks
on its quality.</p>

<p>“Smoking reminds me of spitting, but as this is at all
times a disgusting habit, I need say nothing more than&mdash;never
indulge in it. Besides being coarse and atrocious,
it is very bad for the health.”</p>

<p>Chesterfield warns his son against faults in good
breeding in the following words, and these warnings will
be equally applicable to the student of etiquette in the
present day. He says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Of the lesser talents, good breeding is the principal
and most necessary one, not only as it is very important<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">{305}</a></span>
in itself, but as it adds great lustre to the more solid advantages
both of the heart and the mind. I have often
touched upon good breeding to you before; so that this
letter shall be upon the next necessary qualification to it,
which is a genteel and easy manner and carriage, wholly
free from those odd tricks, ill-habits, and awkwardnesses,
which even many very worthy and sensible people have
in their behaviour. However trifling a genteel manner
may sound, it is of very great consequence towards
pleasing in private life, especially the women, which one
time or other, you will think worth pleasing; and I have
known many a man from his awkwardness, give people
such a dislike of him at first, that all his merit could not
get the better of it afterwards. Whereas a genteel
manner prepossesses people in your favor, bends them
towards you, and makes them wish to be like you.
Awkwardness can proceed but from two causes; either
from not having kept good company, or from not having
attended to it. In good company do you take care to
observe their ways and manners, and to form your own
upon them. Attention is absolutely necessary for this,
as, indeed, it is for everything else; and a man without
attention is not fit to live in the world. When an awkward
fellow first comes into a room, it is highly probable
that he goes and places himself in the very place of the
whole room where he should not; there he soon lets his
hat fall down, and, in taking it up again, throws down
his cane; in recovering his cane, his hat falls a second
time, so that he is quarter of an hour before he is in
order again. If he drinks tea or coffee, he certainly
scalds his mouth, and lets either the cup or saucer fall,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">{306}</a></span>
and spills either the tea or coffee. At dinner his awkwardness
distinguishes itself particularly, as he has more
to do; there he holds his knife, fork, and spoon differently
from other people, eats with his knife, to the great
danger of his mouth, picks his teeth with his fork, and
puts his spoon, which has been in his throat twenty
times, into the dishes again. If he is to carve, he can
never hit the joint: but, in his vain efforts to cut through
the bone, scatters the sauce in everybody’s face. He
generally daubs himself with soup and grease, though
his napkin is commonly stuck through a button-hole, and
tickles his chin. When he drinks, he infallibly coughs
in his glass, and besprinkles the company. Besides all
this, he has strange tricks and gestures; such as snuffing
up his nose, making faces, putting his finger in his nose,
or blowing it and looking afterwards in his handkerchief
so as to make the company sick. His hands are troublesome
to him, when he has not something in them, and he
does not know where to put them; but they are in perpetual
motion between his bosom and his breeches; he
does not wear his clothes, and, in short, he does nothing
like other people. All this, I own, is not in any degree
criminal; but it is highly disagreeable and ridiculous in
company, and ought most carefully to be avoided, by
whoever desires to please.</p>

<p>“From this account of what you should not do, you
may easily judge what you should do; and a due attention
to the manners of people of fashion, and who have
seen the world, will make it habitual and familiar to
you.</p>

<p>“There is, likewise, an awkwardness of expression and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">{307}</a></span>
words, most carefully to be avoided; such as false English,
bad pronunciation, old sayings, and common proverbs;
which are so many proofs of having kept bad
and low company. For example, if, instead of saying
that tastes are different, and that every man has his own
peculiar one, you should let off a proverb, and say, That
what is one man’s meat is another man’s poison; or else,
Every one as they like, as the good man said when he
kissed his cow; everybody would be persuaded that you
had never kept company with anybody above footmen
and housemaids.</p>

<p>“Attention will do all this, and without attention nothing
is to be done; want of attention, which is really want
of thought, is either folly or madness. You should not
only have attention to everything, but a quickness of
attention, so as to observe, at once, all the people in the
room, their motions, their looks, and their words, and
yet without staring at them, and seeming to be an observer.
This quick and unobserved observation is of infinite
advantage in life, and is to be acquired with care;
and, on the contrary, what is called absence, which is
thoughtlessness, and want of attention about what is
doing, makes a man so like either a fool or a madman,
that, for my part, I see no real difference. A fool never
has thought; a madman has lost it; and an absent man
is, for the time, without it.</p>

<p>“I would warn you against those disagreeable tricks
and awkwardnesses, which many people contract when
they are young, by the negligence of their parents, and
cannot get quit of them when they are old; such as odd
motions, strange postures, and ungenteel carriage.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">{308}</a></span>
But there is likewise an awkwardness of the mind, that
ought to be, and with care may be, avoided; as, for instance,
to mistake names; to speak of Mr. What-d’ye-call-him,
or Mrs. Thingum, or How-d’ye-call-her, is excessively
awkward and ordinary. To call people by improper
titles and appellations is so too. To begin a
story or narration when you are not perfect in it, and
cannot go through with it, but are forced, possibly, to
say, in the middle of it, ‘I have forgotten the rest,’ is
very unpleasant and bungling. One must be extremely
exact, clear, and perspicuous, in everything one says,
otherwise, instead of entertaining, or informing others,
one only tires and puzzles them. The voice and manner
of speaking, too, are not to be neglected; some people
almost shut their mouths when they speak, and mutter
so, that they are not to be understood; others speak so
fast, and sputter, that they are not to be understood
neither; some always speak as loud as if they were
talking to deaf people; and others so low that one cannot
hear them. All these habits are awkward and disagreeable,
and are to be avoided by attention; they are
the distinguishing marks of the ordinary people, who
have had no care taken of their education. You cannot
imagine how necessary it is to mind all these little
things; for I have seen many people with great talents
ill-received, for want of having these talents, too; and
others well received, only from their little talents, and
who have had no great ones.”</p>

<p>Nothing is in worse taste in society than to repeat the
witticisms or remarks of another person as if they were
your own. If you are discovered in the larceny of another’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">{309}</a></span>
ideas, you may originate a thousand brilliant
ones afterwards, but you will not gain the credit of one.
If you quote your friend’s remarks, give them as quotations.</p>

<p>Be cautious in the use of your tongue. Wise men
say, that a man may repent when he has spoken, but he
will not repent if he keeps silence.</p>

<p>If you wish to retain a good position in society, be
careful to return all the visits which are paid to you,
promptly, and do not neglect your calls upon ladies, invalids,
and men older than yourself.</p>

<p>Visiting cards should be small, perfectly plain, with
your name, and, if you will, your address <em>engraved</em> upon
it. A handsomely written card is the most elegant one
for a gentleman, after that comes the engraved one; a
printed one is very seldom used, and is not at all elegant.
Have no fanciful devices, ornamented edges, or flourishes
upon your visiting cards, and never put your profession
or business upon any but business cards, unless it is as a
prefix or title: as, Dr., Capt., Col., or Gen., in case you
are in the army or navy, put U.S.N., or U.S.A. after
your name, but if you are only in the militia, avoid the
vulgarity of using your title, excepting when you are
with your company or on a parade. Tinted cards may
be used, but plain white ones are much more elegant.
If you leave a card at a hotel or boarding house, write
the name of the person for whom it is intended above
your own, on the card.</p>

<p>In directing a letter, put first the name of the person
for whom it is intended, then the name of the city, then
that of the state in which he resides. If you send it to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">{310}</a></span>
the care of another person, or to a boarding house, or
hotel, you can put that name either after the name of
your correspondent, or in the left hand corner of the
letter&mdash;thus:&mdash;</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r8 smcap">Mr. J. S. Jones,</span><br />
<span class="pad-r3">Care of Mr. T. C. Jones,</span><br />
<span class="pad-r1">Boston,</span><br />
Mass.</p>
</div>

<p class="center">or,</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r3 smcap">Mr. J. S. Jones,</span><br />
<span class="pad-r1">Boston,</span><br />
Mass.</p>

<p>Revere House.</p>
</div>

<p>If your friend is in the army or navy, put his title before
his station after his name, thus:&mdash;</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="ralign smcap">Capt. L. Lewis, U.S.A.,</p>
</div>

<p class="center">or,</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="ralign smcap">Lieutenant T. Roberts, U.S.N.</p>
</div>

<p>If you send your letter by a private hand, put the
name of the bearer in the lower left hand corner of the
envelope, but put the name only. “Politeness of,”&mdash;or
“Kindness of,” are obsolete, and not used now at all.
Write the direction thus:&mdash;</p>

<div class="corr-eg">
<p class="ralign"><span class="pad-r5 smcap">J. L. Holmes, Esq.,</span><br />
<span class="pad-r3">Revere House,</span><br />
<span class="pad-r1">Boston,</span><br />
Mass.</p>

<p>C. L. Cutts, Esq.</p>
</div>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">{311}</a></span>
This will let your friend, Mr. Holmes, know that Mr.
Cutts is in Boston, which is the object to be gained by
putting the name of the bearer on a letter, sent by a
private hand.</p>

<p><span class="smcap">Guard against vulgar language.</span> There is as
much connection between the words and the thoughts as
there is between the thoughts and the words; the latter
are not only the expression of the former, but they have
a power to re-act upon the soul and leave the stains of
their corruption there. A young man who allows himself
to use one profane or vulgar word, has not only
shown that there is a foul spot on his mind, but by the
utterance of that word he extends that spot and inflames
it, till, by indulgence, it will soon pollute and ruin the
whole soul. Be careful of your words as well as your
thoughts. If you can control the tongue, that no improper
words are pronounced by it, you will soon be able
to control the mind and save it from corruption. You
extinguish the fire by smothering it, or by preventing
bad thoughts bursting out in language. Never utter a
word anywhere, which you would be ashamed to speak
in the presence of the most religious man. Try this
practice a little, and you will soon have command of
yourself.</p>

<p>Do not be known as an egotist. No man is more
dreaded in society, or accounted a greater “bore” than
he whose every other word is “I,” “me,” or “my.”
Show an interest in all that others say of themselves,
but speak but little of your own affairs.</p>

<p>It is quite as bad to be a mere relater of scandal or
the affairs of your neighbors. A female gossip is detestable,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">{312}</a></span>
but a male gossip is not only detestable but utterly
despicable.</p>

<p>A celebrated English lawyer gives the following directions
for young men entering into business. He
says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Select the kind of business that suits your
natural inclinations and temperament.</span>&mdash;Some men
are naturally mechanics; others have a strong aversion
to anything like machinery, and so on; one man has a
natural taste for one occupation in life, and another for
another.</p>

<p>“I never could succeed as a merchant. I have tried
it, unsuccessfully, several times. I never could be content
with a fixed salary, for mine is a purely speculative
disposition, while others are just the reverse; and therefore
all should be careful to select those occupations that
suit them best.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Let your pledged word ever be sacred.</span>&mdash;Never
promise to do a thing without performing it with the
most rigid promptness. Nothing is more valuable to a
man in business than the name of always doing as he
agrees, and that to the moment. A strict adherence to
this rule gives a man the command of half the spare
funds within the range of his acquaintance, and encircles
him with a host of friends, who may be depended upon
in any emergency.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Whatever you do, do with all your might.</span>&mdash;Work
at it, if necessary, early and late, in season and
out of season, not leaving a stone unturned, and never
deferring for a single hour that which can just as well
be done <em>now</em>. The old proverb is full of truth and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">{313}</a></span>
meaning&mdash;“Whatever is worth doing at all, is worth
doing well.” Many a man acquires a fortune by doing
his business <em>thoroughly</em>, while his neighbor remains poor
for life, because he only <em>half</em> does his business. Ambition,
energy, industry, and perseverance, are indispensable
requisites for success in business.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Sobriety. Use no description of intoxicating
drinks.</span>&mdash;As no man can succeed in business unless he
has a <em>brain</em> to enable him to lay his plans, and <em>reason</em> to
guide him in their execution, so, no matter how bountifully
a man may be blessed with intelligence, if his brain
is muddled, and his judgment warped by intoxicating
drinks, it is impossible for him to carry on business successfully.
How many good opportunities have passed
never to return, while a man was sipping a ‘social glass’
with a friend! How many a foolish bargain has been
made under the influence of the wine-cup, which temporarily
makes his victim so <em>rich</em>! How many important
chances have been put off until to-morrow, and thence
for ever, because indulgence has thrown the system into
a state of lassitude, neutralizing the energies so essential
to success in business. The use of intoxicating drinks
as a beverage is as much an infatuation as is the smoking
of opium by the Chinese, and the former is quite as
destructive to the success of the business man as the
latter.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Let hope predominate, but be not too visionary.</span>&mdash;Many
persons are always kept poor because they are
too <em>visionary</em>. Every project looks to them like certain
success, and, therefore, they keep changing from one
business to another, always in hot water, and always<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">{314}</a></span>
‘under the harrow.’ The plan of ‘counting the chickens
before they are hatched,’ is an error of ancient date, but
it does not seem to improve by age.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Do not scatter your powers.</span>&mdash;Engage in one
kind of business only, and stick to it faithfully until you
succeed, or until you conclude to abandon it. A constant
hammering on one nail will generally drive it home
at last, so that it can be clinched. When a man’s undivided
attention is centered on one object, his mind will
continually be suggesting improvements of value, which
would escape him if his brain were occupied by a dozen
different subjects at once. Many a fortune has slipped
through men’s fingers by engaging in too many occupations
at once.</p>

<p>“<span class="smcap">Engage proper employees.</span>&mdash;Never employ a man
of bad habits when one whose habits are good can be
found to fill his situation. I have generally been extremely
fortunate in having faithful and competent persons
to fill the responsible situations in my business; and
a man can scarcely be too grateful for such a blessing.
When you find a man unfit to fill his station, either from
incapacity or peculiarity of character or disposition, dispense
with his services, and do not drag out a miserable
existence in the vain attempt to change his nature. It
is utterly impossible to do so, ‘You cannot make a silk
purse,’ &amp;c. He has been created for some other sphere;
let him find and fill it.”</p>

<p>If you wish to succeed in society, and be known as a
man who converses well, you must cultivate your memory.
Do not smile and tell me that this is a gift, not an acquirement.
It is true that some people have naturally a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">{315}</a></span>
more retentive memory than others, but those naturally
most deficient may strengthen their powers by cultivation.</p>

<p>Cultivate, therefore, this glorious faculty, by storing
and exercising it with trains of imagery. Accustom
yourselves to look at any natural object, and then consider
how many facts and thoughts may be associated
with it&mdash;how much of poetic imagery and refined combinations.
Follow out this idea, and you will find that
imagination, which is too often in youth permitted to
build up castles in the air, tenantless as they are unprofitable,
will become, if duly exercised, a source of much
enjoyment. I was led into this train of thought while
walking in a beautiful country, and seeing before me a
glorious rainbow, over-arching the valley which lay in
front. And not more quickly than its appearance, came
to my remembrance an admirable passage in the “Art
of Poetic Painting,” wherein the author suggests the
great mental advantage of exercising the mind on all
subjects, by considering&mdash;</p>

<ul>
<li>“What use can be made of them?</li>
<li>What remarks they will illustrate?</li>
<li>What representations they will serve?</li>
<li>What comparison they will furnish?”</li>
</ul>

<p>And while thus thinking, I remembered that the ingenious
author has instanced the rainbow as affording a
variety of illustrations, and capable, in the imagery
which it suggests, of numerous combinations. Thus:</p>

<p class="center">THE HUES OF THE RAINBOW</p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Tinted the green and flowery banks of the stream;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Tinged the white blossoms of the apple orchards;<br /></span>
<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">{316}</a></span>
<span class="i0">Shed a beauteous radiance on the grass;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Veiled the waning moon and the evening star;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Over-arched the mist of the waterfall;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Reminded the looker-on of peace opposed to turbulence.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And illustrated the moral that even the most beautiful things of earth must pass away.<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>Every book you read, every natural object which meets
your view, may be the exercise of memory, be made to
furnish food both for reflection and conversation, enjoyment
for your own solitary hours, and the means of
making you popular in society. Believe me, the man
who&mdash;“saw it, to be sure, but really forgot what it
looked like,” who is met every day in society, will not
be sought after as will the man, who, bringing memory
and fancy happily blended to bear upon what he sees,
can make every object worthy of remark familiar and
interesting to those who have not seen it.</p>

<p>If you have leisure moments, and what man has not?
do not consider them as spare atoms of time to be wasted,
idled away in profitless lounging. Always have a book
within your reach, which you may catch up at your odd
minutes. Resolve to edge in a little reading every day,
if it is but a single sentence. If you can give fifteen
minutes a day, it will be felt at the end of the year.
Thoughts take up no room. When they are right they
afford a portable pleasure, which one may travel or labor
with without any trouble or incumbrance.</p>

<p>In your intercourse with other men, let every word
that falls from your lips, bear the stamp of perfect
truth. No reputation can be more enviable than that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">{317}</a></span>
of being known as a man who no consideration could
force to soil his soul with a lie.</p>

<p>“Truth is naturally so acceptable to man, so charming
in herself, that to make falsehood be received, we are
compelled to dress it up in the snow-white robes of
Truth; as in passing base coin, it must have the impress
of the good ere it will pass current. Deception, hypocrisy,
and dissimulation, are, when practised, direct compliments
to the power of Truth; and the common custom
of passing off Truth’s counterfeit for herself, is strong
testimony in behalf of her intrinsic beauty and excellence.”</p>

<p>Next to being a man of talent, a well-read man is the
most agreeable in society, and no investment of money
or time is so profitable as that spent in good, useful
books, and reading. A good book is a lasting companion.
Truths, which it has taken years to glean, are therein at
once freely but carefully communicated. We enjoy
communion with the mind, though not with the person
of the writer. Thus the humblest man may surround
himself by the wisest and best spirits of past and present
ages. No one can be solitary who possesses a book; he
owns a friend that will instruct him in moments of leisure
or of necessity. It is only necessary to turn open the
leaves, and the fountain at once gives forth its streams.
You may seek costly furniture for your homes, fanciful
ornaments for your mantel-pieces, and rich carpets for
your floors; but, after the absolute necessaries for a
home, give me books as at once the cheapest, and certainly
the most useful and abiding embellishments.</p>

<p>A true gentleman will not only refrain from ridiculing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">{318}</a></span>
the follies, ignorance, or infirmities of others, but he will
not even allow himself to smile at them. He will treat
the rudest clown with the same easy courtesy which he
would extend to the most polished gentleman, and will
never by word, look, or gesture show that he notices the
faults, or vulgarity of another. <em>Personal deformity</em> is a
cross sent by God, and none but a depraved, wicked, and
brutal man could ridicule, or even greet with a passing
smile the unfortunate thus stamped. Even a word or
look of pity will wound the sensitive, but frank, gentle
courtesy, the regard paid by a feeling man to the comfort
of a cripple, or that easy grace which, while it shows
no sign of seeing the deformity, shows more deference
to the afflicted one than to the more fortunate, are all
duly appreciated and acknowledged, and win for the
man who extends them the respect and love of all with
whom he comes in contact.</p>

<p>Remember that true wit never descends to personalities.
When you hear a man trying to be “funny” at
the expense of his friends, or even his enemies, you may
feel sure that his <em>humor</em> is forced, and while it sinks to
ill-nature, cannot rise to the level of true <em>wit</em>.</p>

<p>Never try to make yourself out to be a very important
person. If you are so really, your friends will soon find
it out, if not, they will not give you credit for being so,
because you try to force your fancied importance upon
them. A pompous fool, though often seen, is not much
loved nor respected, and you may remember that the
frog who tried to make himself as big as an ox, died in
the attempt.</p>

<p>A severe wit once said, “If you do not wish to be the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">{319}</a></span>
mark for slanderous tongues, be the first to enter a room,
and the last to leave it.”</p>

<p>If you are ever tempted to speak against a woman,
think first&mdash;“Suppose she were my sister!” You can
never gain anything by bringing your voice against a
woman, even though she may deserve contempt, and
your forbearance may shame others into a similar silence.
It is a cowardly tongue that will take a woman’s name
upon it to injure her; though many men do this, who
would fear,&mdash;<em>absolutely be afraid</em>, to speak against a
man, or that same woman, had she a manly arm to protect
her.</p>

<p>I again quote from the celebrated Lord Chesterfield,
who says:</p>

<p>“It is good-breeding alone that can prepossess people
in your favour at first sight, more time being necessary
to discover greater talents. This good-breeding, you
know, does not consist in low bows and formal ceremony;
but in an easy, civil, and respectful behaviour. You
will take care, therefore, to answer with complaisance,
when you are spoken to; to place yourself at the lower
end of the table, unless bid to go higher; to drink first
to the lady of the house, and next to the master; not to
eat awkwardly or dirtily; not to sit when others stand;
and to do all this with an air of complaisance, and not
with a grave, sour look, as if you did it all unwillingly.
I do not mean a silly, insipid smile, that fools have when
they would be civil; but an air of sensible good-humor.
I hardly know anything so difficult to attain, or so necessary
to possess, as perfect good-breeding; which is
equally inconsistent with a still formality, and impertinent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">{320}</a></span>
forwardness, and an awkward bashfulness. A little
ceremony is often necessary; a certain degree of firmness
is absolutely so; and an outward modesty is extremely
becoming; the knowledge of the world, and your own
observations, must, and alone can tell you the proper
quantities of each.</p>

<p>“I mentioned the general rules of common civility,
which, whoever does not observe, will pass for a bear, and
be as unwelcome as one, in company; there is hardly
any body brutal enough not to answer when they are
spoken to. But it is not enough not to be rude; you
should be extremely civil, and distinguished for your
good breeding. The first principle of this good breeding
is never to say anything that you think can be disagreeable
to any body in company; but, on the contrary, you
should endeavor to say what will be agreeable to them;
and that in an easy and natural manner, without seeming
to study for compliments. There is likewise such a
thing as a civil look, and a rude look; and you should
look civil, as well as be so; for if, while you are saying
a civil thing, you look gruff and surly, as English
bumpkins do, nobody will be obliged to you for a civility
that seemed to come so unwillingly. If you have occasion
to contradict any body, or to set them right from a
mistake, it would be very brutal to say, ‘<em>That is not so, I
know better</em>, or <em>You are out</em>; but you should say with a
civil look, <em>I beg your pardon, I believe you mistake</em>, or,
<em>If I may take the liberty of contradicting you, I believe
it is so and so</em>; for, though you may know a thing better
than other people, yet it is very shocking to tell them so
directly, without something to soften it; but remember<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">{321}</a></span>
particularly, that whatever you say or do, with ever so
civil an intention, a great deal consists in the manner
and the look, which must be genteel, easy, and natural,
and is easier to be felt than described.</p>

<p>“Civility is particularly due to all women; and remember,
that no provocation whatsoever can justify any
man in not being civil to every woman; and the greatest
man would justly be reckoned a brute, if he were not civil
to the meanest woman. It is due to their sex, and is
the only protection they have against the superior
strength of ours; nay, even a little flattery is allowable
with women; and a man may, without meanness, tell a
woman that she is either handsomer or wiser than she is.
Observe the French people, and mind how easily and
naturally civil their address is, and how agreeably they
insinuate little civilities in their conversation. They
think it so essential, that they call an honest man and a
civil man by the same name, of <i>honnête homme</i>; and the
Romans called civility <i>humanitas</i>, as thinking it inseparable
from humanity. You cannot begin too early to
take that turn, in order to make it natural and habitual
to you.”</p>

<p>Again, speaking of the inconveniency of bashfulness,
he says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“As for the <i>mauvaise honte</i>, I hope you are above it.
Your figure is like other people’s; I suppose you will
care that your dress shall be so too, and to avoid any
singularity. What then should you be ashamed of? and
why not go into a mixed company, with as much ease
and as little concern, as you would go into your own
room? Vice and ignorance are the only things I know,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">{322}</a></span>
which one ought to be ashamed of; keep but clear of
them, and you may go anywhere without fear or concern.
I have known some people, who, from feeling the pain
and inconveniences of this <i>mauvaise honte</i>, have rushed
into the other extreme, and turned impudent, as
cowards sometimes grow desperate from the excess of
danger; but this too is carefully to be avoided, there
being nothing more generally shocking than impudence.
The medium between these two extremes marks out the
well-bred man; he feels himself firm and easy in all
companies; is modest without being bashful, and steady
without being impudent; if he is a stranger, he observes,
with care, the manners and ways of the people most esteemed
at that place, and conforms to them with complaisance.”</p>

<p>Flattery is always in bad taste. If you say more in
a person’s praise than is deserved, you not only say
what is <em>false</em>, but you make others doubt the wisdom of
your judgment. Open, palpable flattery will be regarded
by those to whom it is addressed as an insult.
In your intercourse with ladies, you will find that the
delicate compliment of seeking their society, showing
your pleasure in it, and choosing for subjects of conversation,
other themes than the weather, dress, or the opera,
will be more appreciated by women of sense, than the
more awkward compliment of open words or gestures of
admiration.</p>

<p>Never imitate the eccentricities of other men, even
though those men have the highest genius to excuse their
oddities. Eccentricity is, at the best, in bad taste; but
an imitation of it&mdash;second hand oddity&mdash;is detestable.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">{323}</a></span>
Never feign abstraction in society. If you have
matters of importance which really occupy your mind,
and prevent you from paying attention to the proper
etiquette of society, stay at home till your mind is less
preoccupied. Chesterfield says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“What is commonly called an absent man, is commonly
either a very weak, or a very affected man; but
be he which he will, he is, I am sure, a very disagreeable
man in company. He fails in all the common offices of
civility; he seems not to know those people to-day,
whom yesterday he appeared to live in intimacy with.
He takes no part in the general conversation; but, on
the contrary, breaks into it from time to time, with some
start of his own, as if he waked from a dream. This
(as I said before) is a sure indication, either of a mind
so weak that it is not able to bear above one object at a
time; or so affected, that it would be supposed to be
wholly engrossed by, and directed to, some very great
and important objects. Sir Isaac Newton, Mr. Locke,
and (it may be) five or six more, since the creation of
the world, may have had a right to absence, from that
intense thought which the things they were investigating
required. But if a young man, and a man of the world,
who has no such avocations to plead, will claim and exercise
that right of absence in company, his pretended
right should, in my mind, be turned into an involuntary
absence, by his perpetual exclusion out of company.
However frivolous a company may be, still, while you
are among them, do not show them, by your inattention,
that you think them so; but rather take their tone, and
conform, in some degree, to their weakness, instead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">{324}</a></span>
manifesting your contempt for them. There is nothing
that people bear more impatiently, or forgive less, than
contempt; and an injury is much sooner forgotten than
an insult. If, therefore, you would rather please than
offend, rather be well than ill-spoken of, rather be loved
than hated; remember to have that constant attention
about you, which flatters every man’s little vanity; and
the want of which, by mortifying his pride, never fails
to excite his resentment, or, at least, his ill will. For
instance: most people (I might say all people) have their
weaknesses; they have their aversions and their likings
to such or such things; so that, if you were to laugh at
a man for his aversion to a cat, or cheese, (which are
common antipathies,) or, by inattention and negligence,
to let them come in his way, where you could prevent it,
he would, in the first case, think himself insulted, and,
in the second, slighted, and would remember both.
Whereas your care to procure for him what he likes, and
to remove from him what he hates, shows him that he is,
at least, an object of your attention; flatters his vanity,
and makes him, possibly, more your friend than a more
important service would have done. With regard to
women, attentions still below these are necessary, and,
by the custom of the world, in some measure due, according
to the laws of good breeding.”</p>

<p>In giving an entertainment to your friends, while you
avoid extravagant expenditure, it is your duty to place
before them the best your purse will permit you to purchase,
and be sure you have plenty. Abundance without
superfluity, and good quality without extravagance,
are your best rules for an entertainment.</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">{325}</a></span>
If, by the introduction of a friend, by a mistake, or
in any other way, your enemy, or a man to whom you
have the strongest personal dislike, is under your roof,
or at your table, as a guest, hospitality and good breeding
both require you to treat him with the same frank
courtesy which you extend to your other guests; though
you need make no violent protestations of friendship,
and are not required to make any advances towards him
after he ceases to be your guest.</p>

<p>In giving a dinner party, invite only as many guests
as you can seat comfortably at your table. If you have
two tables, have them precisely alike, or, rest assured,
you will offend those friends whom you place at what
they judge to be the inferior table. Above all, avoid
having little tables placed in the corners of the room,
when there is a large table. At some houses in Paris it
is a fashion to set the dining room entirely with small
tables, which will accommodate comfortably three or
four people, and such parties are very merry, very sociable
and pleasant, if four congenial people are around
each table; but it is a very dull fashion, if you are not
sure of the congeniality of each quartette of guests.</p>

<p>If you lose your fortune or position in society, it is
wiser to retire from the world of fashion than to wait
for that world to bow you out.</p>

<p>If you are poor, but welcome in society on account of
your family or talents, avoid the error which the young
are most apt to fall into, that of living beyond your
means.</p>

<p>The advice of Polonius to Laertes is as excellent in
the present day, as it was in Shakespeare’s time:&mdash;</p>

<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">{326}</a></span></p>

<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
<span class="i6">“Give thy thoughts no tongue,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Nor any unproportioned thought his act.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel:<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But do not dull thy palm with entertainments<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Of each new hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade. Beware<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Of entrance to a quarrel: but, being in,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Bear it that the opposer may beware of thee.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For the apparel oft proclaims the man.<br /></span>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0 wide">* * * * *<br /></span>
</div>
<div class="stanza">
<span class="i0">Neither a borrower nor a lender be:<br /></span>
<span class="i0">For loan oft loses both itself and friend;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.<br /></span>
<span class="i0">This above all,&mdash;To thine ownself be true;<br /></span>
<span class="i0">And it must follow, as the night the day,<br /></span>
<span class="i0">Thou canst not then be false to any man.”<br /></span>
</div></div>

<p>It is by no means desirable to be always engaged in
the serious pursuits of life. Take time for pleasure, and
you will find your work progresses faster for some recreation.
Lord Chesterfield says:</p>

<p>“I do not regret the time that I passed in pleasures;
they were seasonable; they were the pleasures of youth,
and I enjoyed them while young. If I had not, I should
probably have overvalued them now, as we are very apt to
do what we do not know; but knowing them as I do, I
know their real value, and how much they are generally
overrated. Nor do I regret the time that I have passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">{327}</a></span>
in business, for the same reason; those who see only the
outside of it, imagine it has hidden charms, which they
pant after; and nothing but acquaintance can undeceive
them. I, who have been behind the scenes, both of
pleasure and business, and have seen all the springs and
pullies of those decorations which astonish and dazzle
the audience, retire, not only without regret, but with
contentment and satisfaction. But what I do, and ever
shall regret, is the time which, while young, I lost in
mere idleness, and in doing nothing. This is the common
effect of the inconsideracy of youth, against which
I beg you will be most carefully upon your guard. The
value of moments, when cast up, is immense, if well employed;
if thrown away, their loss is irrecoverable.
Every moment may be put to some use, and that with
much more pleasure than if unemployed. Do not imagine
that by the employment of time, I mean an uninterrupted
application to serious studies. No; pleasures
are, at proper times, both as necessary and as useful;
they fashion and form you for the world; they teach you
characters, and show you the human heart in its unguarded
minutes. But then remember to make that use
of them. I have known many people, from laziness of
mind, go through both pleasure and business with equal
inattention; neither enjoying the one nor doing the
other; thinking themselves men of pleasure, because
they were mingled with those who were, and men of business,
because they had business to do, though they
did not do it. Whatever you do, do it to the purpose;
do it thoroughly, not superficially. <i>Approfondissez</i>:
go to the bottom of things. Anything half done or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">{328}</a></span>
half known, is, in my mind, neither done nor known
at all. Nay worse, it often misleads. There is hardly
any place or any company where you may not gain
knowledge, if you please; almost every body knows
some one thing, and is glad to talk upon that one thing.
Seek and you will find, in this world as well as in the
next. See everything; inquire into everything; and
you may excuse your curiosity, and the questions you
ask, which otherwise might be thought impertinent, by
your manner of asking them; for most things depend a
great deal upon the manner. As, for example, I <em>am
afraid that I am very troublesome with my questions; but
nobody can inform me so well as you</em>; or something of
that kind.”</p>

<p>The same author, speaking of the evils of pedantry,
says:&mdash;</p>

<p>“Every excellency, and every virtue has its kindred
vice or weakness; and, if carried beyond certain bounds,
sinks into one or the other. Generosity often runs into
profusion, economy into avarice, courage into rashness,
caution into timidity, and so on:&mdash;insomuch that, I believe,
there is more judgment required for the proper
conduct of our virtues, than for avoiding their opposite
vices. Vice, in its true light, is so deformed, that it
shocks us at first sight, and would hardly ever seduce
us, if it did not at first wear the mask of some virtue.
But virtue is, in itself, so beautiful, that it charms us at
first sight; engages us more and more upon further acquaintance;
and, as with other beauties, we think excess
impossible, it is here that judgment is necessary, to
moderate and direct the effects of an excellent cause. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">{329}</a></span>
shall apply this reasoning, at present, not to any particular
virtue, but to an excellency, which, for want of
judgment, is often the cause of ridiculous and blameable
effects; I mean great learning; which, if not accompanied
with sound judgment, frequently carries us into
error, pride, and pedantry. As, I hope, you will possess
that excellency in its utmost extent, and yet without its
too common failings, the hints, which my experience can
suggest, may probably not be useless to you.</p>

<p>“Some learned men, proud of their knowledge, only
speak to decide, and give judgment without appeal; the
consequence of which is, that mankind, provoked by the
insult, and injured by the oppression, revolt; and, in
order to shake off the tyranny, even call the lawful authority
in question. The more you know, the modester
you should be; and (by the bye) that modesty is the
surest way of gratifying your vanity. Even where you
are sure, seem rather doubtful; represent, but do not
pronounce; and, if you would convince others, seem
open to conviction yourself.</p>

<p>“Others, to show their learning, or often from the
prejudices of a school education, where they hear of nothing
else, are always talking of the ancients, as something
more than men, and of the moderns, as something
less. They are never without a classic or two in their
pockets; they stick to the old good sense; they read
none of the modern trash; and will show you plainly
that no improvement has been made in any one art or
science these last seventeen hundred years. I would,
by no means, have you disown your acquaintance with
the ancients; but still less would I have you brag of an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">{330}</a></span>
exclusive intimacy with them. Speak of the moderns
without contempt, and of the ancients without idolatry;
judge them all by their merits, but not by their ages;
and if you happen to have an Elzevir classic in your
pocket, neither show it nor mention it.</p>

<p>“Some great scholars, most absurdly, draw all their
maxims, both for public and private life, from what they
call parallel cases in the ancient authors; without considering
that, in the first place, there never were, since
the creation of the world, two cases exactly parallel;
and, in the next place, that there never was a case
stated, or even known, by any historian, with every one
of its circumstances; which, however, ought to be known
in order to be reasoned from. Reason upon the case
itself, and the several circumstances that attend it, and
act accordingly; but not from the authority of ancient
poets or historians. Take into your consideration, if
you please, cases seemingly analogous; but take them
as helps only, not as guides.</p>

<p>“There is another species of learned men who, though
less dogmatical and supercilious, are not less impertinent.
These are the communicative and shining pedants, who
adorn their conversation, even with women, by happy
quotations of Greek and Latin; and who have contracted
such a familiarity with the Greek and Roman authors,
that they call them by certain names or epithets denoting
intimacy. As, <em>old</em> Homer; that <em>sly rogue</em> Horace;
<em>Maro</em>, instead of Virgil; and <em>Naso</em>, instead of Ovid.
These are often imitated by coxcombs who have no
learning at all, but who have got some names and some
scraps of ancient authors by heart, which they improperly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">{331}</a></span>
and impertinently retail in all companies, in hopes
of passing for scholars. If, therefore, you would avoid
the accusation of pedantry on one hand, or the suspicion
of ignorance on the other, abstain from learned ostentation.
Speak the language of the company that you are
in; speak it purely, and unlarded with any other.
Never seem wiser nor more learned than the people you
are with. Wear your learning, like your watch, in a
private pocket; and do not pull it out and strike it,
merely to show that you have one. If you are asked
what o’clock it is, tell it, but do not proclaim it hourly
and unasked, like the watchman.</p>

<p>“Upon the whole, remember that learning (I mean
Greek and Roman learning) is a most useful and necessary
ornament, which it is shameful not to be master of;
but, at the same time, most carefully avoid those errors
and abuses which I have mentioned, and which too often
attend it. Remember, too, that great modern knowledge
is still more necessary than ancient; and that you had
better know perfectly the present, than the old state of
the world; though I would have you well acquainted with
both.”</p>

<p>If you are poor, you must deprive yourself often of
the pleasure of escorting ladies to ride, the opera, or
other entertainments, because it is understood in society
that, in these cases, a gentleman pays all the expenses
for both, and in any emergency you may find your bill
for carriage hire, suppers, bouquets, or other unforeseen
demands, greater than you anticipated.</p>

<p>Shun the card table. Even the friendly games common
in society, for small stakes, are best avoided. They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">{332}</a></span>
feed the love of gambling, and you will find that this
love, if once acquired, is the hardest curse to get rid off.</p>

<p>It is in bad taste, though often done, to turn over the
cards on a table, when you are calling. If your host or
hostess finds you so doing, it may lead them to suppose
you value them more for their acquaintances than themselves.</p>

<div class="footnotes">
<h2 class="no-pad smcap">Footnotes:</h2>
<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Walker’s Manly Exercises.</p></div>
<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Two brothers, named <i>De Witte</i>.</p></div>
</div>

<div id="tn">
<h2 class="no-pad smcap">Transcriber’s Note:</h2>

<p>Inconsistencies in accents (e.g. tete a tete vs. tête à tête) and
hyphenation (e.g. ball room vs. ball-room) have not been corrected.
Variant spellings have also been retained.</p>

<p>Minor typographical errors (e.g. missing punctuation, incorrect or
duplicate letters) have been corrected without note.</p>

<p>The following changes were also made to the text:</p>

<p><a href="#Page_130">p. 130</a>: missing ‘at’ added (too lazy to part it at all)</p>

<p><a href="#Page_255">p. 255</a>: two asterisks changed to ellipsis (before he begins any
other....)</p>

<p><a href="#Page_266">p. 266</a>: italics added to ‘I’ and removed from ‘or’ ( <em>I have the honor
to acquaint you</em>; <em>Permit me to assure you</em>; or,)</p>

<p><a href="#Page_292">p. 292</a>: italics removed from ‘of’ (<i>largesse</i> of)</p>

<p><a href="#Page_332">p. 332</a>: off to of (get rid of)</p>
</div>








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