How To Behave: A Pocket Manual Of Republican Etiquette, And Guide To Correct Personal Habits Part 8

In a letter to his son, Lord Chesterfield makes the following confession: "I have often wished an obscure acquaintance absent, for meeting and taking notice of me when I was in what I thought and called fine company. I have returned his notice shyly, awkwardly, and consequently offensively, for fear of a momentary joker not considering, as I ought to have done, that the very people who would have joked upon me at first, would have esteemed me the more for it afterward."

A good hint for us all.

6. _Pulling out one's Watch._

Pulling out your watch in company, unasked, either at home or abroad, is a mark of ill-breeding. If at home, it appears as if you were tired of your company, and wished them to be gone; if abroad, as if the hours dragged heavily, and you wished to be gone yourself. If you want to know the time, withdraw; besides, as the taking what is called French leave was introduced, that, on one person's leaving the company, the rest might not be disturbed, looking at your watch does what that piece of politeness was designed to prevent.

7. _Husband and Wife._

A gentleman speaks of his wife in a mixed company as Mrs. ----, and a lady of her husband as Mr. ----. So one does not say in speaking to another, "your wife," or "your husband," but Mrs. or Mr. ----. Among intimates, however, to say "my wife," or "my husband," is better, because less formal. Let there be a _fitness_ in everything, whatever conventional rules you may violate.

8. _Bowing vs. Curtseying._

Curtseying is obsolete. Ladies now universally bow instead. The latter is certainly a more convenient, if not a more graceful form of salutation, particularly on the street.

9. _Presents._

Among friends, presents ought to be made of things of small value; or, if valuable, their worth should be derived from the style of the workmans.h.i.+p, or from some accidental circ.u.mstance, rather than from the inherent and solid richness. Especially never offer to a lady a gift of great cost; it is in the highest degree indelicate, and looks as if you were desirous of placing her under an obligation to you, and of buying her good-will.

The gifts made by ladies to gentlemen are of the most refined nature possible; they should be little articles not purchased, but deriving a priceless value as being the offspring of their gentle skill; a little picture from their pencil or a trifle from their needle.

A present should be made with as little parade and ceremony as possible. If it is a small matter, a gold pencil-case, a thimble to a lady, or an affair of that sort, it should not be offered formally, but in an indirect way.

Emerson says: "Rings and other jewels are not gifts, but apologies for gifts. The only gift is a portion of thyself. Thou must bleed for me.

Therefore the poet brings his poem; the shepherd, his lamb; the farmer, his corn; the miner, a gem; the sailor, coral and sh.e.l.ls; the painter, his picture; the girl, a handkerchief of her own sewing."

10. _Sn.o.bbery._

When you hear a man insisting upon points of etiquette and fas.h.i.+on; wondering, for instance, how people can eat with steel forks and survive it, or what charms existence has for persons who dine at three without soup and fish, be sure that that individual is a sn.o.b.

11. _Children._

Show, but do not show off, your children to strangers. Recollect, in the matter of children, how many are born every hour, each are almost as remarkable as yours in the eyes of its papa and mamma.

FOOTNOTES:

[B] "Colonel Lunettes."

[C] "Manners Book."

[D] "Etiquette for Gentlemen."

[E] "How to Talk: A Pocket Manual of Conversation, Public Speaking, and Debating." New York. Fowler and Wells. Price 80 cents.

[F] La Bruyere

[G] "Etiquette for Gentlemen."

[H] Chesterfield.

VII.

THE ETIQUETTE OF OCCASIONS.

Great plenty, much formality, small cheer, And everybody out of his own sphere.--_Byron._

I.--DINNER PARTIES.

A young man or a young woman, unaccustomed to the settled observances of such occasions, can hardly pa.s.s through a severer ordeal than a formal dinner. Its terrors, however, are often greatly magnified. Such a knowledge of the princ.i.p.al points of table etiquette as you may acquire from this book, complete self-possession, habits of observation, and a fair share of practical good sense, will carry one safely if not pleasantly through it.

You may entertain the opinion that such dinners, and formal parties in general, are tiresome affairs, and that there might be quite as much real courtesy and a great deal more enjoyment with less ceremony, and we may entirely agree with you; but what _is_, and not what _might be_, is the point to be elucidated. We are to take society as we find it. You may, as a general rule, decline invitations to dinner parties without any breach of good manners, and without giving offense, if you think that neither your enjoyment nor your interests will be promoted by accepting; or you may not go into what is technically called "society" at all, and yet you are liable, at a hotel, on board a steamer, or on some extraordinary occasion, to be placed in a position in which ignorance of dinner etiquette will be very mortifying and the information contained in this section be worth a hundred times the cost of the book.

We now proceed to note the common routine of a fas.h.i.+onable dinner, as laid down in books and practiced in polite society. On some points usage is not uniform, but varies in different countries, and even in different cities in the same country, as well as in different circles in the same place. For this reason you must not rely wholly upon this or any other manners book, but, keeping your eyes open and your wits about you, _wait and see what others do_, and follow the prevailing mode.

1. _Invitations._

Invitations to a dinner are usually issued several days before the appointed time--the length of time being proportioned to the grandeur of the occasion. On receiving one, you should answer at once, addressing the lady of the house. You should either accept or decline unconditionally, as they will wish to know whom to expect, and make their preparations accordingly.

2. _Dress._

You must go to a dinner party in "full dress." Just what this is, is a question of time and place. Strictly interpreted, it allows gentlemen but little choice. A black dress coat and trowsers, a black or white vest and cravat, white gloves, and pumps and silk stockings were formerly rigorously insisted upon. But the freedom-loving "spirit of the age" has already made its influence felt even in the realms of fas.h.i.+on, and a little more lat.i.tude is now allowed in most circles.

The "American Gentleman's Guide" enumerates the essentials of a gentleman's dress for occasions of ceremony in general, as follows:

"A stylish, well-fitting cloth coat, of some dark color and of unexceptionable quality, nether garments to correspond, or in warm weather, or under other suitable circ.u.mstances, white pants of a fas.h.i.+onable material and make, the finest and purest linen, embroidered in white, if at all; a cravat and vest of some dark or neutral tint, according to the physiognomical peculiarities of the wearer and the _prevailing mode_; an entirely fresh-looking, fas.h.i.+onable black hat, and carefully-fitted modish boots, white gloves, and a soft, thin, white handkerchief."

A lady's "full dress" is not easily defined, and fas.h.i.+on allows her greater scope for the exercise of her taste in the selection of materials, the choice of colors, and the style of making. Still, she must "be in the fas.h.i.+on."

3. _Punctuality._

Never allow yourself to be a minute behind the time. The dinner can not be served till all the guests have arrived. If it is spoiled through your tardiness, you are responsible not only to your inviter, but to his outraged guests. Better be too late for the steamer or the railway train than for a dinner!

4. _Going to the Table._

When dinner is announced, the host rises and requests all to walk to the dining-room, to which he leads the way, having given his arm to the lady who, from age or any other consideration, is ent.i.tled to precedence. Each gentleman offers his arm to a lady, and all follow in order. If you are not the princ.i.p.al guest, you must be careful not to offer your arm to the handsomest or most distinguished lady.